Resistance: Falling
by It's All In Your Mind
Summary: Third in the Resistance series. Catching Fire and the events leading up to it from Finnick's POV. Lots of Annie/Finnick fluff and random flashbacks/nightmares/hallucinations. The story is better than the description, I promise.
1. The Decision

**Hello once again! This is the third installment in the Resistance series. The first half will be about the events leading up to the Quell; the second half will be about the Quell itself. I promise that it'll be filled with all the drama and fluff and whatnot.**

**The Decision**

_". . . The male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors." _President Snow's words repeat themselves in my head.

We all had different reactions. Broadsea shouted "NO!" and tossed a chair across the room. Wrather flat-out left and no one's seen him since. Dodge started weeping – and I mean _weeping_. As for me, I just sat there. Frozen.

But Mags takes the cake. She went and had a stroke.

For the past six hours, the doctor's been helping her. Broadsea, Dodge, and I have been running around trying to help without getting in the way.

Now at home, I'm sitting in a big armchair that I've pulled over to the bed. Annie's fast asleep, hair tangled across the pillows and blankets bunched up around her legs. She moved in with me two or three years ago – I don't remember. But I never get tired of waking up next to her.

She's smiling in her sleep. It seems cruel to wake her now. Drag her from dreams into reality, which is far less pleasant.

Annie's been sick with the flu all week. A few days ago, her fever was so high she was hallucinating and having nightmares. Tonight I left her asleep at home to watch the Quell announcement. She didn't see it. She doesn't even know that it was on. She doesn't know that two of us victors are going back into the arena.

And the duty has fallen upon my shoulders to tell her.

Oh joy of joys.

How do I go about telling her, I wonder? _Hey, babe, your worst nightmare has come to life, but let's not make a big deal out of it; you're only going to die slowly and painfully, probably at the hands of someone you know? _Pathetic.

I should get back to Mags. I pull the covers over Annie and she smiles. "Where have you been all night?" Her eyes flicker open. I consider telling her about the Quell, but when I open my mouth tears well up in my eyes. Annie sits up immediately. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I can't tell her. I can't. I manage to croak out one word, though: "Mags."

[LATER]

"Where's Mags?" Annie asks the moment we're in Mags's foyer.

Dodge – whose eyes are still red from crying – and Broadsea look puzzled. They both point upstairs and Annie heads off after giving my hand a squeeze. I sit down on a chair and put my face in my hands.

"What the hell was that?" asks Dodge. "Why ain't she freaking out about the Quell?"

"Yeah, shouldn't she be rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere?" asks Broadsea. "Or hanging off a rope by her neck?"

Dodge punches him in the stomach and Broadsea doubles over. "Shut the eff up." But _eff_ is not the word he says.

"It's a valid question," I say. "She'd kill herself if she knew."

"She doesn't know?" Broadsea asks. "You've got to be kidding me! She has a right to know!" I don't move. "If you're not going to tell her, I will."

"No." I stand up. "Anyone breathes a word of this to Annie and I'll cut your tongue out."

"What are you going to do if her name is drawn?" Broadsea snaps, nostrils flared in anger. "What are you going to do if she goes back into the arena?"

That's a great question, to which I have no answer. Thankfully, Dodge pipes up. "Well it ain't up to you. Besides, Annie hates your guts." He turns to me. "Ain't that right, Boss?"

I don't respond because I hear Annie call out my name as she descends the stairs. The doctor is with her. "Mags wants you," she says. "Hi, Dodge." She nods in his direction, completely ignoring Broadsea. She never did tell me what happened between them, just that they had a falling out.

"Thanks," I say. I turn to the others. "Remember what I said about your tongues."

Mags is in her bed, propped up against pillows. She's half-asleep and doesn't look good. I remember the doctor saying that she'd make it, but her speech was messed up and she's having breathing trouble. Something like that. I stopped paying attention after I heard she'd making.

She says what must be my name, but it sounds like _i-ick_ or something.

I sit on the edge of her bed. "I'm here."

"Volunteer," she croaks.

"What?"

"For Annie," she says. "Volunteer." I think she's trying to say that she'll volunteer if Annie's name is called.

"Mags, I can't ask you to do that," I whisper.

Her next words are crystal clear. "Then don't."

"Here we go." The doctor – a middle-aged man with glasses as thick as my thumb – enters the room. He sticks the end of a syringe into a tiny jar and pulls back the stopper. "You're going to feel a little sting." He flicks the side a few times.

I hold Mags's hand, remembering that she dislikes needles. As it pokes her arm, she squeezes my hand. But it barely feels like she's doing anything at all. As she drifts off, she says, "Plutarch will figure . . ." Her eyes are closing. "Plutarch will . . ."

"She'll be all right," the doctor promises. "Her bad leg will most likely get worse. And her speech may never be normal again."

"Fantastic," I mutter.

The doctor swallows, giant Adam's apple bouncing. "She's not in any shape to go back into the aren–"

"No offense, doc, but the last thing I need to do right now is discuss the Quarter Quell with you," I say. That shuts him right up.

Mags said, "_Plutarch will figure."_ She probably meant that he'd figure something out. A way to get us out of the arena. Get _me_ out.

When you think about it logically, you can only draw one conclusion: it may be a one-in-four chance, but _I'll_ be the one that goes in. They'll rig it. As much as the Capitol loves me, I've been a lot of trouble to Snow over the years. He'll be glad to get rid of me. It'll make a statement. And Snow likes making statements.

Downstairs, Broadsea has begun drinking himself into a stupor. Dodge is whittling something from a log of firewood. Annie's blowing her nose in the kitchen. I sit on the couch between Dodge and Broadsea. Just sit there. Don't do anything else. After a minute, I can hear Annie washing her hands.

"What'd Mags say?" asks Dodge.

"She said Plutarch will think of something," I reply.

"Plutarch." Broadsea snorts. "I trust him as far as I can throw him."

"Who can you throw?" asks Annie, walking in with a box of tissues tucked under her arm.

"Dodge," Broadsea says without hesitation. "But he's such a scrawny bitch I could probably toss him all the way to South Waters."

"Hey!" Dodge snaps. "Boss, am I a scrawny bitch?" he asks me.

I find myself smiling. "I'm sorry, Dodge. You are."

For some reason, we all start laughing.

Annie and I end up going home. The cats start whining for food. I ask Annie to go up to bed, claiming that I don't want her coughing all over the cats' food. But really I just want to be alone. After I feed the cats, I sit down in the library.

As soon as I sit, the phone starts ringing. I reach over and pick it up. "Hello?"

"Finnick."

"Johanna."

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours!" she says. "Did you see it?"

"Yeah, I saw it." I sigh.

"Then why the hell didn't you pick up the phone one of the eight _thousand_ times I called?" she spits.

"Mags had a stroke."

"Oh," she says. "Well, is she going to be okay?"

"Yeah."

"How about you?"

"No."


	2. The Runaway

**I'm still just setting up the plot, so don't be upset because this isn't the most interesting chapter. Also, I might not be publishing chapters every night like I did last time. It'll be more like every couple of days. **

**The Runaway**

_"Would you do me a favor before we rip each other apart?" Wonder asks._

_"Depends," I say. "What's the favor?"_

_She steps slightly closer to me and tilts her head. "Kiss me," she whispers. I don't stop her as she moves forward._

_This is my first kiss. It's a little awkward, but Wonder seems to be into it. Really into it. Eyes closed and everything. Then it hits me._

_I won't get another chance like this._

_Both of my hands are parked at the small of her back. My left hand drags along her hip, slowly falling behind me. There's a knife tucked into my belt. I carefully pull it out and adjust it in my hand. I can't believe I'm about to do this._

_Next thing I know, there's a knife in Wonder's abdomen and blood on my hand and on her clothes and my clothes and it's all over everything. Wonder pulls back, gasping. She looks at me with tears and disbelief in her eyes._

_"I'm sorry," I say simply. I pull my knife out and Wonder falls to the ground. She keeps gasping for a moment before I hear the cannon. _

My eyes snap open and sit up. I'm covered in cold sweat. I lean forward, putting my head in my hands.

I can feel the bed shift as Annie sits up. "Nightmare?" she asks.

I turn to her. "How the hell do you do that?"

"Light sleeper," she says, shrugging. "What was it about?"

Annie doesn't talk about her nightmares. She buries them and never brings them up again. But I can talk about mine. Yes, I omit a few details if I think they'll frighten her, but I do tell her about them. And I can tell her this one.

"Wonder," I say.

Annie's rubbing my back now. "You did–" She's cut off by a loud banging on the front door. "I'll get it," Annie says. She kisses my shoulder – the only thing she can reach – and climbs out of bed.

I lean back on the pillows and try to calm down. _It was just a dream_, I tell myself. _You're not in the arena anymore_. But then I remember that I'm probably going back in. I doze off for a little while. I'm shocked out of half-sleep by Annie calling for me from downstairs. So I grab a shirt and head down.

When you get down the stairs, there's a hallway that leads to the rest of the first floor. I'm in the hallway and have nearly rounded the corner into the library when I stop.

"Who holds a grudge for four goddamn years?" I hear Broadsea hiss.

"Why are you here?" Annie asks. "Please be serious."

He ignores her request. "Can't we just be friends again?"

"I thought you didn't _want_ to be friends." Annie's voice is bitter.

"No," Broadsea says. "I don't. But I'll take what I can get."

I don't like where this conversation is headed. "Is that Broadsea I hear?" I say it loudly, intentionally interrupting them.

I round the corner into the library. Annie and Broadsea are standing by the fireplace. Annie's back against the wall and her arms are crossed over her chest. Broadsea is looking down at her. I can't see either of their faces, so I have no idea what expressions their wearing.

Their heads turn to me. Broadsea looks slightly annoyed while Annie looks relieved. I could've guessed that.

"It's three A.M., Broadsea," I say. "Couldn't this have waited until morning, or what?"

"'Or what'?" Broadsea repeats. "Really? Is that the best insult you could come up with?"

"I'm tired. Cut to the chase."

"Get your coat. We're going to Wrather's."

"Do I have to come?" Annie asks. Broadsea shakes his head. "Then I'm going back to bed; I'm still sick." She walks over to me and gives me a hug.

"I'll be back soon," I tell her.

She smiles. "Okay."

Broadsea and I walk side by side to Wrather's in silence. But I decide to break it. "Word to the wise: Next time you're going to put the moves on Annie – which is a bad idea, by the way – don't do it in my house." I finish my statement with a yawn.

Broadsea stops. "What?"

I stop, too. "Go ahead. Make a threat. Throw a punch." I open my arms invitingly.

"As much as I would love to, I'm not gonna fight you." He keeps moving. "Never thought I'd be saying this, but we need to stick together. Three of us are going to the Capitol and one is going to keep your girl from drowning herself in a sink."

Broadsea. So morbid.

Then something occurs to me. "That makes five," I say. "If three go to the Capitol and two stay here, where's the sixth?"

"Wish I knew." Broadsea nods towards Wrather's door.

As soon as I walk into his house, I see Mags sitting in the living room. "Gone," she says.

"What?" I ask.

"Wrather." Mags points her cane at Wrather's bedroom.

I walk in. All drawers and closet doors are open. And empty. I start walking through the house and find the bathroom, kitchen, and storage closets in similar situations "Where the hell is he?" I ask on my way back into the living room.

"Great question," Broadsea says. "I came over to talk to him about the reaping – I was gonna volunteer if his name was drawn – and he was gone."

"Well, where's Dodge?"

Mags says something along the lines of: "Asleep at home."

It's hard to digest this. Wrather left us when we needed him. He just packed up and left. Over eighty years old. And he's gone.

"And how did you get here?" I ask Mags. "Did you have to talk?" I guess.

Mags nods and says either _flattery_ or _strategy_. But I think it's the latter.

He must've left right after the Quell announcement when he just ran out of Mags's house. But where could he have gone? Certainly not any of the other districts. There are other settlements, other countries besides Panem. Maybe he fled to one of them.

My anger is slowly increasing. Wrather had to have known that one of us would volunteer for him! And he just left us!

I whack a china lamp off of a table.

Then I see a white square sitting on the table. I pick it up and unfold it. It's a note, very clearly addressed to Dodge. It reads: _Dodge – went to safe house. I'm sorry, but I had to. You're welcome to join me. _And it's signed with Wrather's mark.

"What's that?" asks Broadsea.

"Letter to Dodge," I say. I read it out loud for him and Mags.

Broadsea tells us to stay here before he slips outside.

"You're mad," Mags says.

"He left," I say. "Aren't you?" Mags doesn't reply. "He was you're mentor! He just left you!"

She says something, but I can only make out: "Should run."

Broadsea busts back in, toting Dodge along behind him. He snatches the note out of my hand and holds it up to Dodge's face.

"Aw, what the hell's this?" Dodge asks. He plucks the note from Broadsea's hand. His face changes as he reads. A look of surprise washes over his features. "Goddamn."

"You didn't know he was going to leave?" I ask.

"Hell no!" Dodge shouts. He crumples up the paper. It takes a few minutes for him to find out what he wants to say. Eventually, he settles on a lovely little phrase. "I hope he's dead."


	3. Nightmare

**Nightmare**

Dodge swings his fist at me. I duck under it and kick him in the rear, making him fall to the floor. I fall on top of him, pressing my knee into the back of his neck and yanking at his arm. Just when I think I've won, his metal arm yanks my ankle and pulls me off of him. We struggle again, and I end up on the floor on my back.

"You're losing your touch, Boss," he says. He's standing over me.

"You wish." I manage to lift my right leg and swing it, kicking him squarely in the face. He stumbles backwards as I rise to my feet; I lunge at him. We slam against the wall and Dodge gets the wind knocked out of him.

"I think Dodge's the one that's lost his touch," says Widewater.

Widewater is Broadsea's older sister. Her teeth and gums seem a bit too big for her jaw. She's tall and muscled like her brother, but is lacking in tattoos and scars. She also doesn't hate me. In fact, it's quite the opposite. All she ever does when I see her is try to show off her figure for me. She's not very subtle.

"Broadsea, wanna try?" Dodge asks after I release him.

Broadsea finishes wrapping his knuckles and they start going at it.

We're practice-fighting at the Training Center on Sandstorm. Since the Quell announcement last week, we've been doing it every day. Widewater – one of the trainers – has been assigned to give us special assistance preparing for the Games. I can't say I've missed the long training sessions I endured when I was young.

Or the uniforms. They're white tank tops, shorts, and shoes made specially to fit to your foot. Some of the boys just don't wear the shirts. I remember that I never did; I was hot stuff and I knew it. I'd always beat the other kids at knot-tying, races, weight-lifting, and spear and trident throwing. The three of us – Dodge, Broadsea, and I – still refuse to wear shirts.

"I have to go soon," I say.

"Why?" Widewater asks.

"Annie's still sick," I say. I walk over to the little sink across the room and start splashing water on my face.

_She's sick, and I want to spend every possible second with her_, I add mentally.

"Ever gonna tell her?" Broadsea asks, grabbing Dodge in a headlock.

I cup some water in my hand and fling it at him. "Shut up."

"I take that as a 'no,'" he says.

"You can go," Widewater says. "Tomorrow, you're all running and lifting weights."

"Got it," I say, and go into the locker room.

I shower, change, and pack up my things. If only the actual arena were as simple as training.

When I get home, Annie is half-asleep on the couch in the library. One cat sits on her lap, the other on the armchair beside her. "Finnick!" she says.

"Hey," I say. I kneel down beside her. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," she croaks.

I put my hand on her forehead and she leans into it. "You're burning up," I say.

"Mmm." She shuts her eyes.

"Come on. Let's get you upstairs." I don't let her walk; instead, I carry her up to bed. I set her down in the very center and watch her curl up into a ball.

The bed is larger than most – maybe the equivalent of two king-sized beds spliced together. It makes Annie look even smaller than she is.

"Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she asks, yawning.

I tuck her in and sit down next to her. "'Course I will."

"Thank you."

"You really need to get better soon." I run my fingers through her soft hair. "Because I love you and you need to stop sleeping all day and start hanging out with me."

"I'm trying." She giggles. "But I can't help it . . . if I can't . . ." she doesn't finish her sentence because she drifts off to sleep.

I swallow. What's going to happen to her if and when I go back to the arena? What's going to happen to _me_? As ashamed as I am to admit this, I'm terrified of the future. I don't want to die. I don't want to go back. And Mags – what will happen to her?

I take care of Annie and Mags anyway, but keeping an arena chocked full of homicidal drunkards and emotionally dead assassins from killing them is a whole other thing.

"Sleep tight," I whisper. I kiss her on the cheek and go downstairs.

Once I get downstairs, I begin making dinner. I've barely started when there's a knock on the door. It's Broadsea of course.

"Plutarch called me," he says. He pushes his way into the house.

"What did he say?" I ask as we head into the kitchen.

"He's coming up with some kind of plan – what are you cooking?"

"Dinner," I say simply.

"Smells good," he says, and stares at me.

"I'm not giving you any. No matter how many hints you drop." I go back to stirring.

"Well, the reaping's going to be rigged so Beetee goes back in. The plan is – well I'm not sure what it is, but Beetee's involved."

"That's helpful." I take a sample of the pasta sauce I'm making. "Really. It is."

"Well excuse me if –"

He's cut off by a high-pitched shriek. It's Annie.

Immediately, I rush upstairs and into the bedroom. She's screaming and thrashing and crying. Poor thing is having a nightmare.

I leap onto the bed and secure her hands above her head so she doesn't hurt herself. But she keeps screaming and fighting. So I have to try and wake her up. "Annie! _Annie_! It's me! It's Finnick!" I shout. She struggles less. Then I just speak. "It's Finnick." Struggles less. Then a little bit quieter. "It's Finnick." Stops struggling. And then just a whisper. "It's Finnick."

Annie is fully awake now, and crying. Fear and embarrassment fight for control of her expression as she wraps her arms around me. I pull her onto my lap and realize she's scorching from the fever.

That's the problem with Annie being sick – it makes any nightmares she has ten times worse than they usually are. She's had fever nightmares before, and they're awful. Last year, she had a nightmare about _me_; I literally had to beg her not to be afraid of me. It was terrible.

"It's okay," I whisper. "You're safe. It's okay, sweetheart." She really _is_ burning.

"Finnick?" Broadsea appears in the doorway.

Annie stiffens.

"It's okay," I say to her. "It's just Broadsea."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks.

"Could you get a cold washcloth from the bathroom?" I ask. He nods and disappears into the bathroom. A few seconds later I can hear the faucet running, then Broadsea reemerges after a moment. "Thank you." I take it from him.

"Anything else?" Broadsea asks.

"No. you can go home."

Broadsea's eyes dart from me to Annie before he nods and leaves. He may be an ass, but he's actually very helpful in times like these.

I readjust myself so that I'm leaning against the headboard; Annie whimpers. "Don't worry," I whisper. "I'm here."

Annie just says, "Finnick." She's shaking and crying, and I know neither of us will sleep tonight.

"It's all right," I say. "It's okay." I keep talking to her, and she starts to calm down. "It was just a bad dream." I wipe her forehead with the washcloth.

"But it seemed real," she squeaks.

"What was it about?" I ask even though there's little hope I'll get an answer.

"They . . ." She swallows. "They killed you."

"Who did?" I ask. But she starts crying again. "I'm sorry. Don't worry. I'm okay. We're both okay."

My inner voice scoffs. _Liar_.


	4. The Plan

**Another filler chapter. Sorry! Also, Annie won't find out about the Quell until the actual reaping. Sorry again! Thanks for reading/putting up with this!**

**The Plan**

There's a loud clunk as I accidentally break off a chunk of the cruiser's motor. "Damn it!" I take a long drag of my cigarette and try to reconnect the broken pieces. "I'm not built for this kind of physical labor, Mags," I say over my shoulder.

Mags laughs and says something like, "What _are_ you built for?"

"Not this." I wipe the grease off my hands with a red dishtowel.

"You ain't built for a lot a-things," says Dodge. He tightens something on the motor with a wrench. "There. All fixed." Then something makes a crashing noise. "Stupid ruddy _boat_!" he shouts.

I snicker. "Not so easy, is it?"

"Oh, shut it."

Annie – having fully recovered from the flu – walks over. She hands me her glass of lemonade and takes the wrench from Dodge's hand. Then she bends over the motor, fiddles with a few things, and stands up. She hands the wrench back to Dodge then turns the key in the boat's ignition. It starts up easily.

"Goddamn . . ." Dodge says.

"I'm not _totally_ useless," Annie says. She takes the lemonade from my hand. "Thanks."

"You fix Mags's boat after two seconds while Dodge and I have been trying for hours," I say. "Infuriating."

"Oy!" Broadsea shouts. He's crossing the courtyard towards us. "I just got off the phone with Plutarch Heaven –"

I silence him with a glare. I look over at Annie; she doesn't say anything, but I can practically see the question marks swirling around in her head. She looks at me, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows. She's giving me that look of hers.

An awkward silence has fallen over us. Annie is the first to break it. "I'm going to go." She turns to me. "We've got dinner with Britton at four."

"Okay," I say. "I'll see you there?" She nods, and I give her a peck on the lips. "Love you."

She musters up a grin. "Love you too." She waves to the others and walks off.

As soon as she's out of earshot, I turn on Broadsea. "You moron!"

"Chill out," says Broadsea. "This is important."

"Inside," Mags says. And so we head into her house.

"So, Plutarch called me," Broadsea says. "He thinks he's got a plan."

It became clear almost immediately that the victors would be busted out of the arena. We're too important to the rebellion. But we have yet to perfect the plan.

"Keep going, hoss," says Dodge.

"Like I said, Beetee's gonna be the one actually carrying out the plan," he reminds us. "But there'll be signals about when it'll happen. There will be bread sent. And whatever district the bread is from will represent the day of the rescue. Number of rolls is the hour."

"How're we supposed to know what time it is?" I ask. "The days can be counted, but the hours . . . I mean, you can judge by the sun, but –"

"Plutarch said we'd know," Broadsea says, shrugging.

"You'll excuse me if I have trouble putting my life in the hands of a fat Capitol –"

Mags says something like, "We don't know if _you're_ going in."

Everyone else scoffs. It's a virtual guarantee that I'm going in.

"So Finnick's just gonna make sure that Mags don't get killed, and either me or Broadsea's gotta keep Annie from . . ." Dodge trails off.

"Oh, yeah," I say. "Somebody's gotta be the mentor." This isn't good because out of the four of us, only Mags and I have been mentors. And if we're going into the arena . . .

"There is one more thing," Broadsea says.

"What else could there possibly be?" I ask.

"You remember that Katniss chick from last year?" he asks. We all nod. "The rebellion sort of needs her . . . alive."

"You lost me." Dodge crosses his arms over his chest.

Broadsea mumbles something. I only pick up: "Willing to die . . . protect them . . . take too kindly . . ."

"What?"

Broadsea shakes his head. "Forget I brought it up. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Mags heaves a great sigh and sits. We all turn to her.

I sit down beside her. "You all right?"

Mags shakes her head. I realize that there are tears in her eyes. This is the first time I've ever seen her cry. I immediately pull her into a hug. Broadsea sits on her other side and Dodge kneels before her. We're all trying to soothe her.

This woman is basically our mother. In the past two weeks she's had a stroke, her old mentor abandoned her, and her worst fears have been realized.

We let her cry herself out.

I can't let Mags die. If Annie's name is called, she's going in. And I'm going to thank her by bringing her home.

[LATER]

"It's staring at me."

"Yes it is."

I move from side to side, but its giant eyes just follow me. "Doesn't it blink?"

"No, Finnick," Britton says. "She never blinks."

Callie giggles and smashes her fists together.

"It's laughing at me!"

Britton reaches down and scoops up his daughter. "You're terrible with children, you know that?" He turns back to his baby, whom he and Io named after Calliope. "Uncle Finnick is weird," he croons. "Yes, he is. Yes, he is!"

They're training baby Callie to call me "Uncle Finnick." Because Annie is her aunt. And for all intents and purposes, Annie and I are married. Ergo.

I don't mind it.

But the baby . . . I don't get it. What compels people to create a tiny, screaming, crying fat being that looks exactly like you and will grow up to resent you? There is no good answer. Yeah, there's love and the urge to procreate, but still.

Needless to say, I've never wanted kids. Annie told me she used to want them, but changed her mind after the Games.

"She really does look like Cal," Annie says. She takes the baby from her brother.

"Doesn't she?" Io says.

"Finnick, come help me with dinner," says Britton. So I follow him into the kitchen. "She still doesn't know?" he whispers.

"No," I say.

He nods. "Good."

"'Good'?" I say. "Shouldn't you be pissed off?"

"Annie's not suicidal," he says. "But . . ."

"I know."

"Well, do you have something you can do? To try and get out, I mean."

"We've got a plan," I say reluctantly. "But I don't know how well it'll work."


	5. Points of View

**I might write a story about Annie's time in the Capitol/bits of Mockingjay/Finnick living after this. Like I said, Finnick is not dead. Suzanne Collins is a genius, but she dropped the ball on Mockingjay. **

**Points of View**

"Again," Widewater says.

Broadsea charges; Dodge and I duck. Then Dodge takes a swing at me with his training swords – which are made of wood so no one is seriously injured. I knock them away with the end of my training trident – which is also wooden.

"I don't see why we have to practice with three people," Broadsea says, swinging his fake javelin in an attempt to hit someone in the head.

"I been there, hoss," Dodge says. "Believe me, it ain't fun being in a triple-fight."

Broadsea charges at me, javelin pointed at my heart. At the last minute, I grab it by the tip and manage to send Broadsea stumbling backwards. He falls down and I put one foot on his chest, then press the blunt prongs of my trident to his chest.

"You're dead."

And then Dodge is standing directly in front of me, crossing his swords in front of my neck. "So are you." He drags them over the skin.

"That's not fair," I say. "You've been in three-person fights before."

"Yeah, yeah." He walks over to Widewater, who hands him a small canteen. He leans against the wall, unscrews the lid, drinks a bit, and pours the rest over his head. "You're just pissed I killed your ass." He yawns loudly and shakes his head, spraying water across the room.

"I expected more of you, Broadsea." Widewater walks towards us, drumming her fingers against her hip. "Come on. Time for weights."

So up we get. Broadsea seems happy to show off at the one thing he can beat me and Dodge at. I can easily lift Mags's weight, but I practice with more than that just to be safe. Eventually, Dodge goes off for a jog.

"Ever going to tell Annie?" asks Broadsea. He selects a set of barbells.

"No," I say flatly. "Stop bringing it up."

"You've got to tell her at some point," Widewater says.

"Like hell I do." I situate myself on a mat and start doing pushups.

"Don't you think she's got a right to know?" Broadsea says.

"Why don't you just shut up?" I suggest. "It's not up to you and you're not gonna change my mind. So stop talking."

"Fine," Broadsea says. He mutters something, but I don't hear what it is exactly. I decide to just drop it.

Widewater offers to spot me while I lift. "You know, you and Broadsea have very similar names," I say.

"Weren't your brothers Roderick and Something-ick?" asks Broadsea. "Those are more similar than Broadsea and Widewater."

"Fair enough," I say.

Yes, my mother was into the name-ending _ick_. Deal with it.

Broadsea leaves after a bit, but I stick around for a while. Widewater drops a few hints. She has this strange ability to make me feel uncomfortable. Just when I think she's about to literally throw herself at me, I head back home.

"Annie!" I call. "I'm back!" I drop my pack on one of the couches and start looking around for her. After searching the rest of the house, I end up on the back patio. She's with Broadsea in the back yard.

"He doesn't want to tell you, but I have to," he's saying.

"You lost me," Annie says.

But he hasn't lost me. He's going to tell her. About the Quell. He's going to tell her . . .

"HEY!" I shout. Annie turns to me; Broadsea curses, but keeps looking away. "What the hell are you doing?"

Broadsea doesn't answer. He just keeps looking at Annie. "While you were sick –"

"Don't," I warn.

"There was an announcement –"

"Broadsea –"

"This year –"

And then I'm jumping on him, bringing him to the ground. Then I'm hitting him over and over. Annie's yelling for me to stop. Broadsea's just lying there. Not even fighting back. Barely defending himself. He knows when he deserves a beating. And when he does, he takes it.

"Stop!" Annie says. "Finnick! Stop!"

I move away from Broadsea. Both of his nostrils are gushing blood, and his lip's split. I don't feel guilty. I hate him. And if he ever tries to tell Annie again, I will make it the last thing he ever does on this earth. That, I can promise you.

"Next time I _will_ kill you," I snarl.

Broadsea pulls himself onto his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Next time, I'll tell her." He sort of sounds like he's growling – and I mean growling like an _animal_.

"Tell me what?" Annie asks as Broadsea stalks off. I go into the house. Annie follows me. "Tell me what? Finnick, what was he trying to say? And why did you beat him to a pulp for it?"

I walk into the library, trying to ignore her as best as I can.

"He said it was life or death." She jumps in front of me. "Tell me."

"No." I'm getting annoyed.

"Please!"

"No," I say again, a little more forcefully this time.

"Finnick," she whispers. She's looking at me with those big old eyes of hers.

I shake my head. "Please don't make me." I sound like I'm begging.

"Don't do that!" she shouts. "Don't make _me_ the bad guy! Why won't you tell me?"

"BECAUSE I CAN'T PROTECT YOU!"

That shuts her up.

"I'm sorry." There's a giant lump stuck in my throat. I'm surprised I can say anything at all. "But I just can't tell you."

For some strange reason, Annie hugs me. "It's okay," she whispers. But it's not like she's forgiving me, it's like she's _soothing_ me. "It's all gonna be okay."

Why isn't she mad at me? She has every right to be. Instead of yelling at me, she's _hugging_ me. _She's_ trying to take care of _me_.

What can I do?

I'm terrified of the future – of leaving Annie and going back to the arena. And I can't tell her a thing because that's the only way I can protect her – and even then, it's only temporary. On reaping day, Mags's name will be called and mine will, too. It's stupid to pretend otherwise.

Now I'm crying like a little kid and Annie's just trying to calm me and I can barely form coherent thoughts.

We go upstairs once I've pulled myself together enough to move. I know I need to get cleaned up, but I don't want to leave her. In fact, I _refuse_. We end up standing under the shower, arms still wrapped around each other. I'm not sure how long we stay there. Maybe an hour.

Then we curl up in the middle of the bed.

"I'll find out eventually," Annie whispers.

Reluctantly, I say, "I know." But I will keep it from her as long as humanly possible.

I keep my arms wrapped around her all night, even as we sleep. And we wake up the next morning in the exact same position.


	6. Scary

**FLUFF! It's a little bit unusual, but I hope you like it.**

**Scary**

It's midmorning; there's overcast outside. It's been a week since I had my little freak out. Annie hasn't asked me about it – thank God. But she's obviously suspicious. And I haven't gone to training. I just can't do it. I won't.

We've been talking in bed the whole morning and half the night.

Annie sighs. "All right," she says to herself. She stands up, stretching. "We should get up."

"No," I groan.

"Yes," she insists.

I stick out my lower lip. "Do I have to?"

"Yes." She bends over the bed like she's about to kiss me. I grab her by the wrists, pull her onto the bed, and roll on top of her. She giggles. "Finnick! We have to get up!"

"I'd sooner shoot myself in the leg."

"You are so complicated," she says.

I press my lips against her jaw, then whisper in her ear, "Yes, I am." I keep kissing her along the neck.

"I mean, you can be sweet one second, flirtatious the next, and then terrifying."

I stop kissing her and look at her in the eye. "Terrifying? You think I'm terrifying?" Annie shrugs. I laugh because that's such a ridiculous thought. "You're afraid of me."

"Am not!" Annie says defensively.

"Are to!" I say jokingly.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

She lowers her eyebrows and pouts. "Am. Not."

I put my face right up in front of hers and in a low, serious voice say, "Are. To." Her eyes widen and she shrinks back into the pillows. I realize that I actually have frightened her and pull away immediately. "You don't need to be scared of me. I would never hurt you."

She smiles reassuringly. "I know. I'm just jumpy, that's all." Then she rolls on top of me. The sheets are wrapped tightly around us. "How about me?" she asks in a sweet voice. "Am I scary?"

Annie might _possibly_ be able to frighten a tadpole if she gained fifty pounds and grew a few inches. Maybe. But I doubt it. She's too Annie-ish. Too soft, too sweet. I mean, this is the girl that's scared of thunder, the dark, even her own shadow.

No. She couldn't be frightening. Ever.

I chuckle and brush Annie's thick hair away from her face. "Oh, you're terrifying."

She wrinkles her nose and laughs. "You're so mean to me!"

"Aw. Have I hurt your feelings?" I say. We roll again so that I'm on top. By now, the sheets are tangled around our waists.

"Yes," she says, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. "You have."

"I'm sorry." I smile. "However will I make it up to you?"

"I don't know," she says. "Maybe if you kissed me."

And so I do. "Do you forgive me yet?"

"Not yet." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Maybe if you kissed me again . . ."

Once again, I do. It only lasts for a second before we hear Dodge's voice. "Boss? Where you – oh my God!"

Annie gasps and scrambles to cover herself with the sheets.

I grab a pillow and toss it at Dodge. "Don't you knock?"

He's smacked his hand over his eyes while I was talking. "Why wouldn't you shut the door? There are some things you can't un-see!"

"Get _out_!" I shout.

"There ain't enough scotch and therapy in the world to undo that!" Dodge begins to stumble back to the stairs. His hand is still over his eyes. After a second, there's a crashing sound followed by an "Ow! I'm okay, I'm okay."

I look back at Annie. She's put a pillow over her chest and is giggling uncontrollably. "You should go see what he wants."

"That's probably a good idea," I say. I kiss her nose and climb off the bed, grab a pair of pants, pull them on, and then tug a button-down shirt on.

Annie rolls onto her side and hugs that pillow to her. "Be quick!"

"I'll be right back," I promise. I go downstairs.

Dodge is sitting in the library. He's having what appears to be a staring match with my cat, Tulie. "Why wouldn't you shut the door?" he asks, not looking away from Tulie's eyes.

"Why wouldn't you knock?"

He gives me a horrified look. "Boss, I am emotionally scarred. Annie's like my sister. I don't wanna see that crap!"

"What do you want?"

As it turns out, _Dodge_ didn't want anything at all. He's here on behalf of Haymitch, who called last night and made a strange request: For us to sacrifice ourselves for Katniss and Peeta, his annoying teenage victors from last year.

"Why the hell would I do that?" I ask.

Dodge shrugs. "They're important. You've seen the whole mockingjay thing the girl does with the arrows and the stuff." We exchange a look. "I ain't making any sense."

"It's not like you've ever been accused of being eloquent."

"The people from Thirteen want them alive," he says.

"Thirteen?"

"Did I not tell you about that?"

I know that District 13 exists. It's kind of common knowledge in 4. But what I did not know was that Plutarch made an alliance with them to help get us out of the arena. And apparently, they want Katniss and Peeta in return. Fair trade?

As far as I'm concerned, Katniss Everdeen is a self-obsessed, ridiculous teenage girl from 12 that used Peeta like he wasn't a human being. But she pisses of Snow, so I guess I could learn to tolerate her. I guess we'll find out.

"Fine, I'll do it," I say. "But if she tries to fight me, I'll kill her."

"So would I." Dodge rises to go.

Then something hits me. "Wait! What about Mags?"

"She's already agreed," Dodge says quietly.

"What if it comes down to her and one of them?" I ask. But I know the answer. So I change the subject. "Are you worried about Wrather?"

"Nah," Dodge says. "I'm sure he's fine. Bastard's probably going to live forever."

"Finnick!" Annie calls. She's in the hall, marching towards the library. Her hair is in a loose ponytail on her shoulder, and she's wrapped the sheet around herself like a dress. "Whatever happened to 'I'll be right back'?"

"I'm sorry," I say.

Then she notices Dodge and slips behind the doorframe so that only her head is visible to us. "Hi, Dodge."

"Howdy." Dodge coughs and stands up. "Well, I can see where I ain't wanted. See you 'round, Boss." He nods at Annie and goes.

Annie scampers into the library the moment we hear the front door shut. "What was that about?"

I manage to smile. "Nothing." I kiss her forehead. "You know I love you, right?"

"I love you too," Annie says.

"And you know I only want to take care of you, right?"

She nods. "Is something wrong?"

I'm getting too comfortable lying to her. "No. Of course not."


	7. What If

**This chapter includes a nightmare of what would happen if Annie learned about the Quell. A few people have asked me to do this. It's not the best, but I hope you'll like it. Only one more chapter after this until the reaping! Thanks for being patient.**

**What If**

_"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Broadsea gasps._

_I press the knife against the side of his neck, drawing a huge bubble of blood. "Annie ran because _you_ told her! Why wouldn't you listen to me?"_

_For the first time ever, I see real fear in Broadsea's eyes. Fear of _me_. "I didn't think this would happen! I swear!"_

_"Shut _up_!" I scream at him. "Just shut up!"_

_"Boss," Dodge starts in his most calming voice. "Put the knife down. He can help us find her."_

_I take the knife down from his throat, only to jam it between his ribs. I don't push it in deeply, though. Broadsea doesn't scream, just winces and grunts. He's felt far worse than that. After Broadsea tapes a cloth over the wound, the three of us head into the woods around Victor's Isle and start searching like mad._

_Annie's probably gone into the woods to hide. I have to believe that she's all right. The alternative is simply unbearable._

_"Annie?" I call. "It's okay. Just come out and I'll explain everything."_

_Dodge is shouting, "Cresta!" and Broadsea's not saying anything at all._

_I take a few more steps and notice a smudge on one of the trees. It's blood. "Annie!" I'm getting worried. She has to be around here somewhere, doesn't she? She has to be. And she's fine. She's fine . . ._

_That's when I see the knife. It's sitting on the grass, blood caked all over it. It's just an ordinary kitchen knife. And then I realize that it's from _my_ kitchen._

_"Annie! Where are you?"_

_"Finnick!" Broadsea shouts. He's standing by the cliff edge that leads to the river. The river's deep enough that you can jump in from up here, but you have to be extremely careful not to hurt yourself by hitting land. He points down at the water. I have to look hard to see it, but there's definitely blood there._

_I dive straight in. The water's cold, but I don't care. I follow the blood upstream until I see her. She's lying on a bed of mud, grass, and rocks. There's blood on her arms and stomach, and I can see from the way her leg is bent that it's broken. She must've jumped – no, _fallen_ – from the cliff and missed the water._

_The moment I get close enough, I drag myself onto the riverbank and gently lift Annie off the ground. "Annie, wake up," I say. "Open your eyes." She just lies there, limp. "Please. Please, wake up." _

_But I know she won't._

_"Annie." I shake her. "Annie . . ."_

_She's dead._

That's when I wake up. My head is spinning and my stomach is churning like I'm about to throw up. The real Annie is lying on her side, facing away from me. She's asleep and alive.

I put my head in my hands, but I don't cry. I just sit there because I can't move. Can't think. Can't do anything.

It's starting to become clear why Wrather left.

I fall asleep again, and I'm the first one to wake up in the morning. I go downstairs and walk around for a little while. Drink a bit. Go into the kitchen. Walk around. Pull out two bags and start packing, then stop packing and walk around some more.

We can't stay here. It's not safe. And I can't go back to the arena _or_ the Capitol. I've had it. We need to leave.

I've been packing, pacing, and drinking on-and-off for about an hour when somebody knocks on the door. Head Peacekeeper Lazarus Belisarius is standing calmly on my porch, three other Peacekeepers nearby.

See, Belisarius usually has between two and four other Peacekeepers with him. They're not meant to protect him or anything; he sort of trains them all. I've heard a couple of Peacekeepers talking in Mainland. They say he's like a slave-driver, always demanding complete obedience and giving them ridiculous tasks. But the majority of the Peacekeepers under him feel blessed to have such a helpful, fearless leader. Idiots.

"Hello, Mr. Odair," says Belisarius. "May I come in?"

"What do you want?" I ask.

Of course, he acts like I've said something else. "I'm very well, thank you." He steps past me into the house. His sidekicks try to follow, but he tells them to wait outside.

We sit down in the living room on opposite couches.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"I've come to ask you a few questions about Wrather's disappearance." He catches sight of the two half-filled bags sitting beside me. "Going somewhere?"

"Of course not," I say.

Belisarius sighs. "The President only allows you to keep Miss Cresta as long as it is convenient," he says in a voice a parent would use when talking to a problem child. "Should your relationship with her become a problem, I shall take her away from you and you will never see her again. Do we understand each other?"

I'm numb, but I still nod my head.

Belisarius knows exactly how to use her against me and never hesitates to do it. And because he does it so freely, his Peacekeepers have started trying it. He'll usually let them dangle her over my head, but sometimes stops them. Sometimes.

"Good. I'm glad." He leans back in his seat. "Where were you the night Wrather disappeared?"

"The night he left, I was with Mags," I answer quietly. "When I found out he was gone, I was here."

"I see," he says. "And how did Annie react?"

I shrug. "Off-put, like the rest of us."

Belisarius purses his lips. "I'm curious. How did Annie react to the Quell?"

That's such a weird question. But I guess I'd be curious, too. So I answer it. "I haven't told her yet."

Belisarius chuckles. And then he makes what I'm positive must be his first joke. "Oh, yes. That'll work out very well."

"Get out," I say.

For once, he does what I ask him to. He stands and starts walking towards the door.

"Thank you, Finnick, you've been very helpful." He's halfway out the door when he stops. "I meant what I said earlier about taking her away."

"I know." Once he's gone, I unpack the bags. And when I'm done, I dial Broadsea.

"Hello?"

"I need you to do me a favor," I say.

He snorts. "Seriously? You broke my nose for the second time and you want me to do you a _favor_?"

"When we get out of the arena, you need to make sure Annie is okay," I say. "Whether or not I'm dead, you need to keep her safe."

"Mmm," he says sarcastically. "That'll be easy."

"Will you or won't you?"

"Of course I will." This time, he's dead serious.

"Thanks." And I hang up the phone.

**Yeah . . . **

**I published it so soon because I REALLY want to get to the reaping.**


	8. The Final Day

**One more chapter until the reaping (which might make you cry). I'll probably post it tomorrow because I REALLY want to put it up!**

**The Final Day**

As she runs, Annie kicks up water a ton of water. Most of it hits me in the face as I rush after her. "You're supposed to catch me!" Annie says over her shoulder.

"I'm trying!" I shout back. "If you'd slow down, maybe I could!" It's not hard for me to talk, even though I'm running on the beach.

Annie laughs. "But then I'd lose the game!"

I reach out and manage to grab hold of her. We stumble, hit the ground, and start rolling. We come to a stop with the waves washing up around us, Annie on top.

She puts her face right in front of mine. "I win. What's my prize?"

"_You_ win?" I say, pulling her damp hair from her cheeks. "I caught you!"

"Really?" she says. "Because from my perspective, _you're_ the one lying on the ground."

I laugh. "Touché."

"So? My prize?"

"I'll give you anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

The reaping is tomorrow. I'd say how I exactly how I feel, but words don't really cover it. As for emotions, it's basically the whole spectrum – fear, anger, betrayal, helplessness, despair, and all that wonderful stuff.

Annie wasn't alarmed when I said I wanted to spend the entire day alone with her; we normally do something special the day before the reaping. The day of, Annie always puts on a brave face. But I don't think that'll be possible this year.

"What do I want?" Annie muses. She rolls off of me, only to cuddle up with her head on my chest. There's sand stuck to our skin and swimsuits but we don't care. "I don't know what I want."

She's wearing two safety bracelets today, both on her right wrist. One of them I gave to her this morning. The other I made last year, just before I left for the Games. It's funny how I can remember each and every one that I give her, even though they have to be in the hundreds.

"There has to be _something_ you want," I say. "_I've_ got so many I don't even know where to start."

Annie turns slightly. She puts her chin on my chest so that we're making eye contact. I think she's going to ask what the big secret is that I'm keeping from her, but she doesn't. "Nothing comes to mind," she says. "But, I guess I could settle for a kiss."

Even though it's just an average kiss, I try to make it last because I may never kiss her again.

Annie breaks it by bouncing back onto her feet. "Wanna try again?"

Because I'll do anything as long as it makes her happy, I nod. She sets off back the way we came and – after the customary five-second head start – follow. This time, I catch her. We don't fall down again. We just stand there.

"Do you know what you want for a prize?" Annie asks.

"A dance," I say.

"Well, there's no music," she says. "But I guess I can suck it up."

"That's the spirit!" I hook one arm around her waist and take her hand in mine. We start spinning around in the shallows.

"Are you okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You're very affectionate lately," she says. "Some might even say clingy."

"Clingy?" I ask.

"I don't mind it!" Annie says quickly. "I like being with you. I just want to know if everything's okay."

I open my mouth to spit out a lie when Broadsea's voice interrupts me. "Dinner!"

"I love you," I say. "Please remember that."

We make our way to the back of Mags's wraparound porch and pull our clothes on over our swimsuits. Then we go into the kitchen to help.

Mags has decided to hold one last victor dinner. She's been especially strong recently. She took it upon herself to have a chat with Broadsea. I'm not totally sure what she said to him, but he hasn't tried to tell Annie again. He hasn't even bothered us.

Annie and Dodge help Mags set the table on the front porch. Broadsea and I are left in the kitchen to finish cooking.

"I've got a plan," he says.

"Another one?" I ask.

"For Annie," he says.

"Do tell." I take a bite of the sauce I'm working on.

"Well, I can't tell you the whole thing, but I can promise you that she'll be on the hovercraft that picks you up."

"And what if I die?"

"You're not going to die," he says angrily. "If anyone's going to kill you, it'll be me. So shut up."

As much as we try to deny it, Broadsea and I have bonded. For the past ten years, we have been partners in crime. We've been through the same thing. Fought for the same cause. Fallen in love with the same girl. And I guess at some point in time, we formed an attachment to each other.

"But if I do" – I turn to look at him – "you need to promise me you'll look after her."

He sighs. "Finnick –"

"_Promise_ me."

He nods. "I promise."

"Is dinner done yet?" Dodge calls.

"Just about," I say.

Except for a few complements on the food and the occasional request for salt, we eat dinner in silence. I keep Annie's hand in mine the whole time and refuse to let it go. When dinner is over, there are lots of hugs. But still no words.

The sun has just barely begun to set. Annie peels of her shoes and starts rushing towards the water. I kick off my own shoes and follow. She stops only when the tide washes up around her knees. "The sun is so pretty," she says, intertwining her fingers with mine.

Who can look at the sun with her standing there? "You're much prettier," I say.

She looks at me with that heart-stopping smile of hers. "I'm not as pretty as you." I raise an eyebrow. "Seriously! I know it sounds bad, but I could stare at you for hours without getting bored."

"I could stare at me for hours, too," I say. But I can't keep a straight face and we both burst out in laughter.

"I'll race you home," Annie suggests when we stop laughing.

"You're really into running today, aren't you?"

"Yep." And then she takes off toward the house.

"Wait up!" I call.

We both just laugh and keep going.

When we settle into bed, Annie falls asleep with her head on my chest as usual. I watch her for a little while before my vision is blurred by tears. In a few seconds, tears turn to sobs. I can't breathe. My throat is closing up.

But I have to be as quiet as possible so I don't wake her.


	9. Untitled

**This is the reaping! It's really sad. Yeah. You've been warned.**

**Untitled**

"Will you promise me something?" I ask.

Annie looks up at me. "What?"

We're walking across the bridge to Mainland for the reaping. We walk on opposite sides of the bridge without touching. We barely even look at one another. It's always like this before the reaping. We can't risk being caught by the cameras.

"I need you to be strong," I say. "No matter what happens."

She's very quiet as she looks to the water and says, "I'm scared. Nobody will tell me what's going on. But people keep looking at me like I'm going to die."

I stop short. She does, too, and examines her feet. "Look at me." She doesn't. "_Look_ at me." Reluctantly, she does. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. Okay?"

Annie nods and lets her eyes return to her feet.

"Now will you promise me?" I ask.

"I promise."

When we reach the Town Square, the victors are lead into a roped-off area. Annie and Mags are in a square adjacent to the one that holds me, Dodge, and Broadsea. I can tell that Annie's starting to panic, but I can't bring myself to look at her.

"What's happening?" she asks. "Why are we back here? Don't we stand on the steps of the Justice Building?"

Nobody answers.

Dysis, our Capitol escort, walks over to the male reaping ball. She reminds us of the Quarter Quell, grabs a slip of paper, and reads my name. I take my place on the stage and focus on something far in the distance, past all the cameras and the people.

Annie doesn't start screaming until Dysis calls her name.

"No!" she cries. "I can't go back!" It continues like that. And it rips my heart to shreds.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Mags making her way towards the stage while Broadsea and Doge try to calm Annie.

"Volunteer," Mags says. She stands beside me, leaning heavily on her cane.

Annie is crossing into hysterics. I have to clench my jaw and shut my eyes. Every instinct in my body is telling me to go to her. But if I do, I'm putting her in danger. And if I don't . . .

Mags and I are pulled into our respective rooms to say our final farewells.

I'm only alone for a second before the doors to my room fly open and Annie runs in. "Finnick!" She throws herself into my arms and I hold on for all I'm worth. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" she gasps.

"I couldn't tell you, sweetheart," I say. "I'm so sorry. If I told you would've . . ." I don't finish that thought.

"Why didn't we leave?"

We're sitting on the velvet couch. She's holding onto me as tightly as she possibly can, her head tucked under my chin. She's shaking and crying so much I'm surprised she can speak at all.

I decide to lie. "You wouldn't have gone with me."

"Yes, I would!" she shouts. "I would go anywhere with you."

I don't have anything else to say, so I just apologize again and again.

"_This_ was the secret." Annie talks like she can't quite fathom it. "_This_ is what you couldn't protect me from."

"I'm sorry," I say for what must be the millionth time.

"Finnick, what if you don't come back?"

"I'm going to come back," I say forcefully. "All right? I'm going to see you again. There's a plan to get us out of the arena."

"A plan?" Annie repeats.

"Yes. And we get out, someone is going to come and get you. No matter what they say, you do not go with them unless you know them. All right? If you don't know who they are and they try to take you, you run like hell. Got it? You run _like hell_."

She nods, but I can see her chin quivering and the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Shh, shh, baby. Don't worry." I'm on the verge of tears myself. "Don't worry. I'm going to see you again."

"I love you," she says. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you, too. And I'll love you until well after I die."

Annie. Annie, Annie, Annie. God, I'm going to miss her. I have no idea what we'll do without each other.

If I die, somebody else will take care of her. But they won't do it correctly. There are days when all Annie can do is curl up in my arms and try to fight the nightmares. And there are other times when the two of us will sit on opposite sides of the bed playing cards with little or no physical contact. And I'm the only when that knows what she needs and when she needs it.

"Please don't go," Annie whispers. Our five minutes are nearly up.

"I won't," I say. "I'm going to stay right here with you."

The doors open and Belisarius comes in with three of his Peacekeepers. Annie and I just hold on tighter. I can't let her go. I can't leave her.

"I love you," I say. She needs to hear it. And I don't know how many more times I'll be able to tell her.

"I love you, too," she says.

"Let her go," Belisarius says. I don't say or do a thing. "I want her on the count of three or I will take her myself. One."

I wrap my arms as tightly around Annie as I can.

"Two."

She squeezes her arms tighter around my neck and wraps her fists around my collar.

"Three."

"I love you," I whisper.

Then they start prying us apart.

We manage to hang on for a while, but they literally start removing our fingers one by one.

Finally, we're separated. Belisarius wraps his arm around Annie's waist and picks her up like a doll. "Finnick! Please! I don't wanna go!" she whimpers. He starts dragging her towards the door.

I try to reach for her, but two of the Peacekeepers grab me and pin me up against the wall. I can't help fighting them. "NO! DON'T TAKE HER!"

Belisarius calmly takes a gun from the third Peacekeeper and presses it to Annie's temple. I don't even breathe. Belisarius smiles. "Good boy." And then – even though Annie's still crying for me – I let him drag her from the room.

Once they're out of sight, the other two Peacekeepers release me. I fall to my knees and concentrate hard on breathing.

I may never see her again. And that is something I simply cannot fathom. I don't want this to be my last memory of her. The only solution is to see her again. Make new memories. So now I guess I _really_ have to come home.

Asper's mother, Jocasta, comes in next. Then there's Dodge. Followed by Widewater. Then Britton. And that's it for my visitors. They all say the same thing – that I'm a good friend, that they're glad to have known me, that they'll look after Annie, and that they want me to come home. I don't say anything in reply.

Then Mags and I are led to the train. I can't even look her in the eye.

As it turns out, Broadsea has volunteered to be our mentor this year. His only words on the matter: "_Somebody's_ gotta keep you alive."

I go straight to my room on the train, lock the door, and burrow under the covers. I don't even bother to watch the reaping.

_"Finnick! Please! I don't wanna go!"_ I know right away that Annie's words are going to haunt me. _She's_ going to haunt me.

Even though I stay under the covers all night, I don't fall asleep.


	10. The Opening Ceremonies

**I'm having problems writing the poem Finnick reads during the interviews. If you'd like to help, that would be much appreciated. I'd credit you and be your best friend forever! I promise!**

**The Opening Ceremonies **

"Ow!" I say, rubbing my chest.

The prep team girl that's waxing me knits her brows. "Sorry." She picks up another strip and is just about to position it below my navel when my head stylist, Arita, stops her.

"You lay a finger on his happy trail and I will disembowel you with a pair of gardening shears," she says.

That's what I like about Arita. She doesn't take crap from anyone. Sometimes, I wish I had guts like her. She says what she feels and feels what she says.

She walks out of the room and returns a few seconds later with a golden net in her hands.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Your costume," she says. She gestures for me to stand up. I do, and she and the prep team start wrapping it around me.

"You're kidding me, right?" I say.

"You want sponsors, I'm gonna help you get them." She smiles slightly. "Besides, the audience needs to rest their eyes somewhere. Why not have it be on you?" They start coiling and knotting it around me, leaving almost nothing up to the imagination.

As much as I hate this, I keep my mouth shut.

When I'm done, they set me loose downstairs. The animal handlers have gathered in a group around a table stocked with apples and sugar cubes. I make my way over to them and start grabbing all the sugar that I can carry.

"That's for the horses!" one of them says.

I'm already walking off. "_You're_ for the horses," I mutter.

A quick scan of the area reveals that there are only a few tributes/victors around. There's the guy from 10 whose name escapes me, Reselda from 6, and Bronte from 9. No. There's one more. She's off in a corner like the loner she is, patting her horse's neck. Katniss Everdeen.

Because I'm so bored and so curious, I make my way over to her. I lean against her horse and pop a sugar cube in my mouth. Then I wait for her to notice me. She finally looks up. I look into her gray eyes and grin. "Hello, Katniss."

"Hello, Finnick," she says calmly. But she just looks annoyed.

"Want I sugar cube?" I ask, holding out my hand. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I . . ." – I look her up and down her a moment – "well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick."

She stares at the sugar like she's having a conversation with it instead of me. "No, thanks. I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though."

"You're absolutely terrifying to me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?" I run my tongue over my lower lip and hold back a laugh as she cringes.

"I outgrew them."

I pinch her outfit's collar and run my fingers over the material. "It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made it out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted."

"I don't like jewels and I have more money than I need," she says. "What do you spend all yours on anyway, Finnick?"

"Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years."

"Then how do they pay for the pleasure of your company?"

I decide that Katniss Everdeen is a bitch.

But I don't freak out. I just get right up close to her. "With secrets." I tilt my head so that we're nearly kissing. "What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

She turns bright red, but acts like nothing's happened. "No, I'm an open book. Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

I grin. "Unfortunately, I think that's true." I look away from her when I hear someone approach. Guess who it is? "Peeta's coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you." I pop another sugar cube in my mouth and go.

Mags is standing beside our chariot. Her dress makes her look like she's literally rising out of the sea. She raises her eyebrows and nods in Katniss's direction.

"Don't ask," I say. I lift her in and then climb in next to her. Next thing you know, we're being rolled out. Everyone starts screaming at the top of their lungs. I smile my best flirtatious smile and wink at the crowd. They scream even louder.

Then I remember that Annie's probably watching this and my heart sinks. But I manage to keep that smile on my face.

I zone out while President Snow welcomes us to the Quell and all that.

When we're back in the Training Center, I lift Mags back out of the chariot. She heads straight for an elevator.

Johanna is standing in front of me, one leg kicked out. Her opposite hip is pushed out to the side. And she's in what can only be described as a tree costume. She tilts her head to the side and in her not-impressed voice says, "Really, Finnick? Really?"

"Bitch, please. I know you're trying not to swoon." I walk over and look her up and down. "You're dressed like a tree. You know that, right?"

"Got wood?" Johanna asks in her best seductive voice. I cock an eyebrow. She sighs. "Are you all right? I saw the reaping and –"

I hold my hand up to silence her. If I talk about it, I'll start crying. And that's the last thing I need right now. "Have you said hello to Katniss yet?"

"Have _you_?"

"My sugar cubes and I did, yes."

A pair of Capitol attendants start herding us toward the elevators. We're right by Haymitch, Chaff, Seeder, Peeta, and Katniss.

Johanna leans toward me. "Watch this," she whispers. She walks up right next to Katniss and peels off her headdress. She strikes up a one-way conversation on fashion with Katniss. When there's a silence, Johanna removes the rest of her outfit. "That's better."

I snicker quietly.

When I get up to my floor, I find Broadsea and Mags talking with Blight. "Finnick, my good man!" Blight says. "Put some pants on and come talk."

So I do. I come back into the living room and pour myself a drink before sitting down. "What's new?"

Blight sighs. "You know how Haymitch wants us to sacrifice ourselves for his tributes?"

"Yeah."

"Johanna refuses to do it."

I'm not surprised. But I am annoyed. "Damn it, Johanna," I mutter. "I've got bigger things to worry about."

"We're sticking together in the arena," says Blight. "I'll keep her in line. Don't you worry."

I nod. "I'm sticking with Mags. But you come and find me and we can team up."

"Sounds good." He holds out his fist and I bump it with my own. "All right. I gotta go. I will see you at training bright and early tomorrow."

I put my feet up on the coffee table and watch the night's recap on television. Mags comes in eventually and joins me.

"Miss Annie?" she asks.

I nod, then turn to look at her. "Thank you. For volunteering, I mean."

She smiles and talks like she did before the stroke. "It wasn't for you."


	11. The Alliance

**Thank you guys so much for the help with Finnick's poem. They're REALLY good and I have so much trouble making choices, so I'll probably flip a coin to decide. I stink like that. Also, I won't be posting often because I've got a whole bunch of projects followed by exams. Bummer.**

**The Alliance**

It's around ten in the morning when we reach training. I'm exhausted and hungry, having only consumed the breakfast of champions this morning: a glass of bourbon.

Atala, the head of training, starts yapping at ten o'clock sharp. I ignore her, as do the vast majority of the other tributes. When she's done, I go over to the edible plants station. Gloss is there, too.

I'm gnawing on a flower root that tastes like raw fish when Annie creeps into my thoughts. If she were here, she'd be absolutely terrified. I wouldn't even consider sacrificing myself for Katniss or Peeta. And I'd have to choose my allies very carefully.

"So," Gloss says, drawing me back to reality. "Got any ideas who you'll ally with?"

"Are you asking me if I want to be allies?" I say.

He shrugs. "I think it's a good idea."

"What about Mags?"

"_I've_ got no problem with that," he says. "But I'm not sure about my sister or Two."

"That's why I'm gonna say no," I say.

We look each other in the eye for a second and understanding passes between us. Neither of us wants to kill the other, but we will. We fill the next hour or so with small talk. When I get bored, I get up and go look for something fun to do.

That's when I spot Katniss making angry faces at a piece of rope. Because I am weak in the way of temptation, I creep up behind her. I wrap my arms around her and replace her hands with my own. I polish it off in an instant.

Katniss turns around and looks up at me with annoyance all over her face.

For fun, I pick up a piece of rope, tie it into a noose, and pretend to hang myself. She rolls her eyes and walks away.

After lunch, Mags and I catch up with Katniss at the fishing area. "Katniss, this is Mags. Mags, this is Katniss."

"Hello," Mags says. "It's nice to meet you."

I can tell from the look on Katniss's face that she's having trouble making out what Mags said. At some point while we make fishhooks, I see something change on Katniss's face. I can't pinpoint exactly what though.

After a while, she heads off to the archery station. I have to say, she's pretty damn good.

We agree that if she gives me an hour of archery lessons, I'll give her an hour of trident. I suck at archery. Twice, I shoot myself in the shoe (but thankfully, my foot isn't damaged). And Katniss isn't a great teacher. She won't stop shouting. "Suck in your gut! Elbow up! No, other elbow! _Suck in your stomach_!"

I try to be patient with her. I do a good job of it for the most part, but Katniss is a truly awful pupil.

Over the course of the next two days, I start panicking.

What is the arena going to be like? Will it be a barren desert, or a frozen tundra? Perhaps a swamp? Volcanic island? How long will we be stuck there for? Hours? Days? Weeks? Will Mags die? Johanna? Blight? Beetee? Me?

The last day of training ends with the private sessions where we have to show off for the Gamemakers. I'm seventh to go.

"What are you going to do?" I ask Mags while we wait.

"Fishhooks," she says, shrugging. "You?"

"Tridents. Knots. The usual," I say.

She cracks a smile. "No archery?"

"That's not funny," I say. "I could've lost a toe. Some say my feet are my finest quality."

She snorts.

"Finnick Odair!" Atala calls. "You're up."

"Good luck," Mags says.

"Thanks."

As I enter, I catch eyes with Plutarch for a brief moment. Then I take a deep breath and leap into action. Toss tridents left and right. Tie knots, including a noose. A long time ago, Annie taught me how to throw a knife because I begged her. So I do that, too. And then I'm dismissed.

By the time the elevator doors open to my floor, Broadsea is already walking towards me. "Catch," he says, tossing something at me.

I grab it in my left hand and begin to inspect it. It's a golden bracelet with a flame-pattern printed on it. I turn it over in my hands. "What is it?"

"Haymitch gave it to me. He said it'd be some kind of sign to Katniss in the arena." He shrugs. "I don't know. Something like that."

"So I'm definitely in with the lovebirds?" I ask.

"Yep. And she wants Mags as an ally, so that's a plus."

I nod and run my thumb over the flames. "I'll wear it when we go in, then."

"Plutarch helped me and, um . . ." Broadsea inhales sharply.

I make my way into the kitchen and pour myself a drink. "And what?"

"I talked to Dodge."

My heart stops beating for a second. A thousand questions start spilling out of my mouth, all about Annie. "Is Annie okay? Did you talk to her? What did she say? Did she ask for me? Did she sound upset? Is she staying with Dodge?"

"Let me talk," he says. "Dodge said Annie was really messed up after the reaping. They had to bring the doctor over to look at her. She won't eat or talk or sleep. He says she just sits in front of the television, watching the Games."

I realize that I'm shaking. I put down my glass and grab the counter to try and steady myself. "Is she all right, though? The Peacekeepers were pretty pissed off when they" – I swallow – "when they took her . . ."

"Did they hurt her, you mean?" Broadsea asks. I nod. "No, they didn't."

I just nod again.

The thought of someone hurting Annie because of me is enough to make me sick. That's why I'll never be able to repay Mags for volunteering.

The elevator doors open again and Mags comes in. Broadsea tells her the good news about the alliance and we sit down to eat. We don't really talk.

I think about Annie.

When we're done, we go and see our training scores.

Districts 1 and 2 all receive either tens or elevens. Beetee and Wiress get seven and eight, respectively. I get eleven. Mags scores eight – which is pretty damn good for a woman her age.

"Damn," Broadsea says. "How'd you get that?"

Mags shrugs. She looks just as shocked as we do. "Fishhooks."

Johanna and Blight score nine each. Cecelia gets eight. There's nothing too interesting. Not until they get to District 12.

They each score twelve. Same number as their district.

They're not going to make protecting them an easy job, are they?


	12. The Interviews

**This poem was written by GuardiansOfOlympus. She is officially my new favorite person and an AMAZING POET! I OWE YOU!**

**The Interviews**

Annie's always liked it when I write her poems, even if they're stupid. So I decided to write her something. I struggled over it for hours. It was hard – I have trouble saying how I feel just in general. And I had to make it sound like it could be meant for multiple women, not just Annie.

She'll understand that it's for her, though. She has to.

Right now, two members of my prep team are artfully arranging my hair so it looks like I just rolled out of bed. The third fled the room in tears roughly an hour ago. And these two keep sniffling every now and then. Why are _they_ sad? _They're_ not the ones going into the goddamn arena – for the second time!

When they complete my makeup, they hustle from the room. As they go out, Arita comes in with my costume in her hands and mascara smudged around her eyes. Like she's been crying. "Nervous?" she asks. She starts picking through a box full of ties.

"Wouldn't you be?" I say.

"Yes," she replies, selecting a solid black tie. She holds it up next to my face to see how it'll look. Then she grabs my clothes and commands me to change.

All I can think about while I'm changing is the fact that at ten o'clock in the morning, my plate will rise and I'll be in a whole new arena. And then at ten-o-one, the gong will sound and I'll have to kill or be killed. I've got about thirteen and a half hours until that time.

Arita has done a good job with me. Black suit. White shirt. Loose black tie. Black boots. But all the black makes me look like I'm mourning someone. Maybe mourning myself.

When I get downstairs, half the tributes are huddled offstage. They're all making some sort of plan.

"I swear, I'm going to rip him a new one," Johanna says through her teeth.

"Count me in," Gloss says.

A few others nod.

"Finnick!" Blight says when he realizes I'm there. "What do you say? will you join us on our quest to rally an angry mob that will burn down Snow's house?"

Johanna rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Moron," she says under her breath.

"As enticing as that proposition is, I'll have to pass," I say.

A few of them give me quizzical looks, but no one says anything.

That's when our good Katniss Everdeen saunters over. In a wedding dress.

There's a long silence while we all absorb what we're seeing. Wearing that thing is like smacking the Capitol in the face.

" . . . I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing," I say.

"He didn't have any choice," Katniss spits defensively. "President Snow _made_ him."

Cashmere flips her hair and hisses, "Well, you look _ridiculous_!" Then she tugs her brother away by the hand.

We all head to our places in line. But Johanna stops and fiddles with Katniss's necklace for a second. "Make him pay for it, okay?"

Caesar Flickerman is lavender-themed this year. I could not care less.

Cashmere is up first for her interview. "When I think about" – she sniffles – "how much these poor people are suffering" – swallows – "because twenty-three of us are going to die." She wipes a forced tear off of her cheek.

I never knew what a good actress she was.

Next up, Gloss thoughtfully reflects on how kind everyone has been to him and his sister. He does not, however, mention the fact that Cashmere was forced into prostitution because Snow constantly threatens to kill him.

Wiress doesn't say much.

Beetee goes off on a tangent about whether or not the Quell is legal. "After one wins the Hunger Games, his or her name is never entered into the reaping again. This rule was thought up by the very first Gamemakers. The Quarter Quell is a contradiction of this rule." And it keeps going like that until the three-minute buzzer goes off.

Mags is up next. She doesn't have a grand speech planned, so Caesar has to ask her questions. "What chance do you think you have of coming home?" asks Caesar.

Mags shrugs.

"Then why did you chose to volunteer for . . . uh . . ." Caesar pulls his eyebrows together as he attempts to remember Annie's name. "The . . . uh . . . the – the mad girl."

_She has a name, you purple moron_, I think. _And it's the most beautiful name I've ever heard . . ._

Once again, Mags shrugs.

Her buzzer goes off and I take my seat across from Caesar as a horde of teenagers begin blubbering preemptively.

Caesar sighs heavily. "How do you feel about the Quell?"

I shrug and give the best answer I can possibly think of: "We've all gotta die sometime." He looks like he's going to ask me another question, but my hand sneaks into my pocket and pulls out the poem I wrote. "Actually, I brought something I'd like to read – if that's okay."

"By all means," says Caesar. "Would you mind telling us what it's for?"

"The girl I love."

There's dead silence for a second. It feels like the whole world is sitting on the edge of their seats, trying to get a better view of me. Caesar gestures for me to begin and I unfold the paper. Smooth it out on my knee. Pray to God she's watching. And start.

"_I wish I could tell you one last time,_

_How much you really mean to me._

_And from the very second I let you in,_

_I knew we were meant to be._

_I never will let anyone hurt you,_

_Or say as much to make you cry._

_You are the only thing that matters to me,_

_I promise this isn't goodbye._

_You're the prettiest girl in the world,_

_Like an angel sent from above._

_Don't let anyone make you forget,_

_You're the only one I'll ever love_."

When I'm done, I fold up my paper and slip it back into my pocket. Then I look out at the crowd.

Every female in there is crying. A good third of them have fainted, positive that the poem was meant for them. Idiots. They're all idiots and I hate every last one of them. They're stupid for even _hoping_ I could love any one of them.

There are still a few seconds left in my interview. That's when Caesar leaps into action. "Well, Finnick, I think we can all agree that girl of yours is very lucky. Could you give us a hint as to who she is?" He's slowly inching forward. If he keeps going like this, he'll fall right off his chair.

I smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

But he won't take no for an answer. "Let's make a deal: If and when I interview you again, you'll give us a name."

"Deal."

But then my buzzer goes and I have to return to my seat. Mags squeezes my hand, but I ignore it. I just slouch down hard in my chair and try to think of the best way I could kill each of my competitors. I'm in a trance; I don't pay attention to the other interviews.

Not even Katniss Everdeen's dress catching fire pulls me out of it. Neither does her dress turning into a mockingjay-suit. Or Peeta saying that he has not only married Katniss, he's knocked her up.

I know she's not pregnant. She's repulsed by Peeta as far as I can tell. But it'll get her some extra sponsors.

But I just don't care. It doesn't matter. Nothing does.


	13. Kill Or Be Killed

**First chapter in the arena. Might not be the best. Also, chapters are going to start getting longer from here on.**

**Kill Or Be Killed**

I slip Haymitch's bangle onto my wrist and stare at it for a second. This is my token. Last time, I didn't have one. I should've brought something else. Something better. A safety bracelet or something. Something that actually matters to me.

"Ready?" asks Broadsea. He's standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest and a cloth bandage taped over a portion of the scar on his cheek.

I stand up and walk over to him. "If Annie's not on that hovercraft, I'll –"

"Plutarch said he'd take care of it," he says.

"_Plutarch_ didn't promise me," I say. "You did. I can confidently say that I've never asked you for much. If she's not there, I will make your life a living hell." I glare up at him. "And you know I can."

Broadsea clenches his jaw. "Save it for the arena." I turn to go, but he stops me. "Finnick?"

"What?"

"Good luck."

I swallow. "You too."

[LATER]

A voice comes through the speaker system, telling me to prepare for the launch.

I start walking to my plate, but Arita stops me at the last second. She grabs me, kisses me, and then shoves me onto it. It all happens so fast I don't have time to react. "Take care of yourself!" she calls as the cylinder slides down around me.

Next thing I know, I'm there.

I'm in the arena.

_Find Katniss. Find Peeta. Find Mags. Cut down anyone who gets in your way_. I keep chanting that to myself as Claudius Templesmith's voice invades my thoughts.

One minute. I have one minute before I start killing.

Analysis of the situation: I am standing in water. Seeder is off to my right. There's a strip of land on my left. And beyond Seeder is another strip of land. The whole place must be like this.

_Find Katniss. Find Peeta. Find Mags. Cut down anyone who gets in your way._

The moment the gong sounds, I'm leaping off my plate and into the water. Then I'm pulling myself onto the land and running up it. Next thing I know, I'm at the Cornucopia. The first thing I see is a trident. I rip it out of the pile along with a net that's laying over a sheath of arrows.

An arena of water and a trident in the Cornucopia. The Capitol likes me more than I thought.

I start looking out between the spokes for the lovebirds and Mags. But I don't have to look for long before Katniss is at the Cornucopia, pulling at the sheath of arrows I saw. I walk over to her as calmly as I can, but try to keep in mind that she won't know I'm her ally. So I keep my trident poised.

_Found Katniss. Find Peeta. Find Mags. Cut down anyone who gets in your way_.

When she hears me, she whips around with an arrow already pointed at my heart. I smile even though I'm planning how I'll be able to incapacitate her if she attacks me.

"So you can swim, too," I say. "Where did you learn _that_ in District Twelve?"

She narrows her eyes. "We have a big bathtub."

"You must. You like the arena?" I ask.

"Not particularly," she says. I can practically smell the bitterness coming off her. "But you should. They must have built it especially for you."

It doesn't make much sense when you think about it. Not many of the victors can swim. Maybe the Capitol wanted to weed out the weaklings. I don't know. That's the best guess I've got.

I can tell Katniss is deciding how she can kill me, so I smile. "Lucky thing we're allies. Right?"

Her eyes dart to the bangle on my wrist just as Calhoun from District 5 hauls himself onto land and starts for us.

"Right!" she says, somewhat angrily.

"Duck!" I shout. The moment she does, I toss my trident at Calhoun. It lands right in his chest and he crumples to his knees. I make my way over to him; I grab a fistful of his hair, grip the neck of my trident in my other hand, and pull them in different directions. "Don't trust One and Two," I say to Katniss.

She manages to free something from the Cornucopia. "Each take one side?" she suggests. I nod and she runs around to the other side.

I start picking through the pile and come up with two more tridents and a knife. "Anything useful?" I shout to Katniss. There must be food or water in here, I just can't see any.

"Weapons!" she calls. "Nothing but weapons!"

"Same here," I say. "Grab what you want and let's go."

Gloss, Enobaria, and Brutus are all on land now – and making their way over here. I can hear an arrow fly, and water splash, and then another arrow, and another splash. I find Katniss at the very front of the pile. Gloss and Enobaria are no longer in sight, but Brutus is still galloping towards us at full speed.

"Do something about that, would you?" I say.

Brutus's purple belt takes the first arrow. He's back in the water before Katniss has time to shoot again.

"Let's clear out," Katniss says.

Enobaria and Gloss are at the Cornucopia now. Gloss is ignoring us, but I swear I can see Enobaria wink at me.

All of a sudden, Katniss takes off towards the edge of the sand. Peeta. Of course. Katniss is already shedding her weapons.

"I'll get him," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. I drop my weapons.

"I can!" she says.

Time to milk the crowds.

"Better not exert yourself. Not in your condition." I pat her abdomen. The look on her face tells me that she's forgotten about the whole pregnancy thing. "Cover me!" I say before diving in.

"What took you so long?" Peeta asks when I reach him.

"Haymitch told you we're allies?" I ask. Peeta nods. "In that case, come on in. The water's lovely." He does. I wrap an arm around his chest and start pulling him back to shore. He slows me down, but not too much.

Katniss helps pulls him onto land. Before giving her a kiss, Peeta says, "Hello again. We've got allies."

"Yes," she says. "Just as Haymitch intended."

"Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?" asks Peeta.

"Only Mags, I think," Katniss replies, nodding at another patch of water. Sure enough, Mags is slowly making her way over to us.

"Well, I can't leave Mags behind," I say. "She's one of the few people who actually likes me."

"I've got no problem with Mags. Especially now that I see the arena. Her fishhooks are probably our best chance of getting a meal," says Katniss.

"Katniss wanted her on the first day," Peeta says matter-of-factly.

"Katniss has remarkably good judgment." I don't think he senses the sarcasm in my voice. I reach into the water and pull her out.

"They make you bob," she says, patting her belt.

I catch sight of Beetee, flailing around like – well, I don't know what like. There's not really a fitting metaphor for whatever it is he's doing. But his head is above water. "Look, she's right. Someone figured it out." I point to him.

"What?" Katniss asks.

"The belts," I say. "They're flotation devices. I mean, you have to propel yourself, but they'll keep you from drowning."

Katniss says that we should move on and hands Peeta a bow, a sheath, and a knife. Mags starts talking very quickly and authoritatively to Katniss until she gives her an awl. Mags smiles widely and holds it with her mouth. Then she opens her arms to me. I throw the net over my shoulder, put Mags on my shoulders piggy-back style, and hold my tridents in one arm.

We reach the main beach. It's walled by a thick rainforest. Jungle. Something along those lines.

Peeta takes the lead, Mags and I go in the middle, and Katniss takes the back. Then we start going.

Now that we're somewhat safe, I can think. The first thing the trainers teach our children back home is to act now, think later. They say our instincts can save our lives, but only if we let them take over. That requires us to stop thinking and – if possible – stop feeling.

I realize that I've killed the first person this Games. And Annie was probably watching. That means she probably saw me kill him and was probably frightened.

And what was that with Arita? Ugh. I can't think about that right now. So I try to concentrate on moving.

We've been going for about a mile when I realize Mags is getting uncomfortable and worn-out. I ask to rest. When we stop, I prop Mags up against a trunk while Katniss scales a tree to get a better view of the arena.

Damn, I could really use a drink . . .

I grab one of my tridents and wait in a defensive position.

"Don't hurt her," Peeta says.

I roll my eyes. "Relax. I'm only going to attack her if she comes at me."

And if she does, I'll chop off her little head.

Katniss lands with an unattractive scowl on her face.

"What's going on down there, Katniss?" I ask. "Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed their weapons into the sea in defiance of the Capitol?"

"No."

"No," I repeat. "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." I look at Peeta. "Except maybe Peeta."

Katniss and I stare at each other for a second, making calculations. If she shoots an arrow at me, I can dodge it and get Peeta. That'd stop her –

That's when the idiot – excuse me, _Peeta_ – plants himself firmly between us. "So how many are dead?" he asks.

"Hard to say," says Katniss, holding my gaze. "At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."

"Let's keep moving," the idiot says. "We need water."

"We better find some soon," I say. "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight."

We keep going up the hill, but slower now. There's nothing. No water whatsoever. After a mile, the tree line starts to thin.

"Maybe we'll have better luck on the other side," Katniss says. "Find a spring or something."

That's when the idiot walks into the force field.


	14. The Lifesaver

**Okay, so not the best chapter. I'm learning that it's a lot harder to follow a plot that's already been made up than it is to make your own. After this, I'm going to do the 72nd Games. **

**The Lifesaver**

Katniss starts screaming Peeta's name at the top of her lungs. I know she's supposed to be madly in love with him and all, but it's a little much.

I set Mags down beside a tree and shove Katniss out of the way. "Let me." I tilt Peeta's head back and pinch his nose.

"NO!" Katniss cries. She throws her body at me, trying to use it as a weapon, but I shove her away again. Probably harder than I should. I'll have to apologize for that later.

I pinch Peeta's nose again and blow a lungful of air into his mouth. Next, I unzip the top of his jumpsuit and start pumping his heart.

One. Two. Three. Four. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I keep going. Fill his lungs with air. Force his heart to beat. Lungs. Heart. Lungs. Heart. It goes on like that for several minutes while Katniss squirms anxiously behind me. Finally, the little blond bastard coughs once. I sit back.

"Peeta?" Katniss whispers.

There's a pause. "Careful," Peeta says. "There's a force field up ahead. Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof. I'm all right, though. Just a little shaken."

"You were dead!" Katniss shouts. "Your heart stopped!" Then she starts making funny noises and slaps her hand over her mouth.

Okay. This is way over the top. She's good at pretending she cares about him, but this is a little bit much.

"Well, it seems to be working now. It's all right, Katniss. Katniss?"

"It's okay," I say, out of breath. "It's just her hormones. From the baby."

"No. It's not –" Katniss starts to object but she's choked by sobs.

But there is no baby. And there is nothing going on between Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I think. She can't be doing all of this for the cameras. So . . . does she care about him?

I look back and forth from one to the other for a moment like just staring at them will answer all my questions. But it doesn't. I give my head a quick shake.

"How are you?" I ask Peeta. "Do you think you can move on?"

"No, he has to rest," objects Katniss. Mags hands her a clump of moss to blow her nose on. Then Katniss realizes Peeta's wearing some sort of necklace. I don't really pay attention. I just want to find some damn water.

". . . So you want to make camp here, then?" I ask.

Peeta shakes his head. "I don't think that's on option. Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly."

"Slowly would be better than not at all," I say, helping him to his feet.

"I'll take the lead," says Katniss.

Peeta opens his mouth to object, but I interrupt him. "No. Let her do it." I look at Katniss, frowning. "You knew that force field was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning." She nods. "How did you know?"

"I don't know," she says. "It's almost as if I could hear it. Listen."

We all shut up. Nothing.

"I don't hear anything," Peeta says.

"Yes!" says Katniss. "It's like when the fence is on around District Twelve only much, much quieter." We shut up again. "There! can't you here it? It's coming from right where Peeta got shocked."

"I don't hear it either," I say. "But if you do, by all means, take the lead."

Katniss turns her head from side to side. "That's weird. I can only hear it out of my left ear."

"The one the doctors reconstructed?" Peeta asks.

"Yeah." Katniss shrugs. "Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn't ordinarily think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground."

Mags and I exchange a look. This may not be the best explanation, but she knows how to detect a force field, so I'm not complaining.

"You." Mags nudges Katniss forwards.

Because we're going so slow, Mags wants to walk. I grab a couple branches and make a walking stick for Peeta and a cane for Mags. The two of them go in the middle and I take the back.

Katniss tosses nuts at the force field. They bounce back all cooked and crispy. Mags keeps picking them up and eating them. After a little while, Katniss becomes conscious of it. She whips around. "Mags! Spit that out. It could be poisonous."

"Poisonous and delicious," Mags mutters. She licks her lips.

Katniss looks at me, but I just laugh. "I guess we'll find out."

As we keep walking, my thoughts return to Annie. I really hope she hasn't been watching – especially when I killed Calhoun.

Most victors get more violent after their Games. But from what I can tell, Annie has only gotten more peaceful.

That's one of the things I love most about her. She's impossible to figure out. She loves the wind and rain, but thunder terrifies her. She loves the stars, but hates the night. She's so unbelievably sweet, and yet she has the worst luck of anyone I have ever met.

Katniss eventually suggests we get some rest so she can climb a tree and get a better look.

Mags offers me one of her nuts.

"Thanks," I say, taking it from her. I pop it into my mouth and start chewing. It might be poisonous, but it tastes all right and I trust Mags's judgment. Most of the time, at least. "How you holding up, Peeta?"

"I've been better." Peeta winces and rubs a sore spot on his ribs. "Thank you for bringing me back, by the way."

"What kind of a person would I be if I let you die like that?" I say. "You need to go out in a blaze of glory and die in Katniss's arms while it's raining and the whole country will be heartbroken and wailing and whatnot." I shrug and pop another nut in my mouth. "Something poetic."

Katniss climbs down and gives us the lay of the land. "The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don't know how high it goes. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large."

"Did you see any water?" I ask.

"Only the saltwater where we started the Games," she says.

"There must be some other source," insists Peeta. "Or we'll all be dead in a matter of days."

"Well, the foliage is thick," Katniss says. "Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere. At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing."

"There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel." Peeta sighs.

This means going back down when only two of us are in fighting condition. If we could only find Johanna and Blight or Chaff and Seeder – assuming that they're still alive. Oh my God – what if Johanna's dead? I can't think about that. My day is bad enough as it is. I do not need to think about that.

We end up moving down the hill and keep circling in the hopes that we'll happen across some water. Katniss remains up front for safety purposes. At a certain point, neither Peeta nor Mags can keep going – even if I were to carry them.

I pick out a tiny patch of grass about ten yards from the force field. "We can deflect people into it if we're attacked," I say.

Then Mags and I start pulling up these tufts of grass that are about five feet tall. We start weaving them into mats and bowls. Peeta starts collecting nuts and frying them on the force field. Katniss paces back and forth around us.

"Finnick," she says, "why don't you stand guard for a while and I'll hunt around some more for water."

"That's not a good idea," I say. "You going off alone, I mean."

Mags grunts in agreement.

"I agree with Finnick," Peeta says.

"Don't worry, I won't go far," Katniss says.

Peeta pulls himself to his feet. "I'll go, too."

"No, I'm going to do some hunting if I can," she says. "I won't be long." And off she goes.

Mags keeps weaving mats and I tie them into a hut of sorts with some vines I find.

"You're good at that," says Peeta.

"What? Tying knots?" I ask. Peeta nods. "I should be. It's one of my focuses."

"Focuses?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say. "Back home in training, everybody's got two or three focuses. Mine were knot-tying and trident- and spear-throwing."

"You're lucky you've got training in Four," Peeta says thoughtfully. "In Twelve, you're just sort of shoved into it."

That's when the cannons start. Mags and I look at each other, mouthing the number of each shot. There are eight in total.

We all stop talking after they're finished.

Katniss comes back with a hunk of bloody meat, but no water. There's a short debate about what we should call it and whether or not we should eat it. Peeta gets the idea to cook it on the force field. We give him a quick round of applause and sit down to eat.

I can't stand the silence. The not-knowing who lived and who died. So I start asking every question I can think of about the thing Katniss caught. When it's time, we sit in a line at the edge of the hut.

First up is Calhoun, meaning that everyone in Districts 1 through 4 are still alive. Next up is Peris from 6, then Woof and Cecelia from 8, Bronte and Roan from 9, Grazer from 10, and Seeder from 11. And then it's over.

I'm flooded with relief. Of course, I'm upset to lose friends like Seeder and Cecelia – who has three kids back home. But Johanna, Blight, and Beetee are alive. So that's good.

A silver parachute flutters down. We stare at it for a long time before Katniss asks, "Whose is it, do you think?"

"No telling," I say. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?"

It's this metal tube thing. One end is curled slightly. We pass it around to try and figure out what it is. Peeta blows on it. I slip my finger inside. Katniss asks if Mags can fish with it; she can't. Eventually, we give up and just stare at it for a while.

Katniss figures it out. She says it's a spile and you can use it to get sap out of a tree. There's no use for syrup here, so we decide that there must be water in the trees.

Peeta and I take turns drilling a hole with Mags's awl and some knives until it fits. Sure enough, there's water in the trees.

[LATER]

"I counted twelve," I say as soon as the tolling stops.

Katniss nods. "Mean anything, do you think?"

"No idea," I say. We wait for a second to see if something happens but nothing does. Katniss takes the next watch.

I've been asleep for about two hours before Katniss wakes us up screaming.


	15. The Fog and the Monkeys

**I'm curious – who do you guys think should play Finnick and Annie if/when they make the _Catching Fire _movie? I think Finnick should be Ian Somerhalder. But then again, I think every man in the world should be him.**

**The Fog and the Monkeys**

"Run!" Katniss screeches. "RUN!"

I'm on my feet in less than a second. There's no one there, just thick white fog creeping towards us. I grab my net, Mags, and one trident, and start running. "What is it?" I ask Katniss.

"Some kind of fog," she says. "Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!"

I give myself over to my instincts and flee as quickly as I can. But then I realize that Peeta and Katniss aren't beside me anymore. "Come on!" I shout. "Keep moving!"

Then Peeta trips. I rush back into the fog for them. I throw one of Peeta's arms over my shoulder and start tugging him along. This weird burning feeling starts. I force us to keep going, but Peeta won't be able to move soon.

"It's no good," I say to Katniss. "I'll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?"

"Yes," she says. So I hand her Mags and toss a half-conscious Peeta over my shoulder. The burning intensifies. The fog seems to be seeping in through my arms. I can't even describe the pain. It's one of the worst things I've ever felt. Soon, I lose all control of my arms.

But I keep going and Katniss keeps following. I start gravitating towards the beach instinctively.

But the fog is too much for Katniss. She's stumbling. I go back to see if I can help.

"It's no use," she says. "Can you take them both? Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

My heart sinks. Mags and I made a promise. And now she'll have to keep it.

"No." I stare right at Mags. "I can't carry them both. I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

If I could take her place, I would. She saved my life in the arena. She took me in after my family died. And I'm basically about to kill her.

Mags brings herself to her feet, gives me a peck on the lips, and marches into the fog. I don't stick around to watch her die.

The pain in my heart and in my limbs is intensified by the sound of the cannon that marks Mags's death. I have to disconnect. I have to stop feeling. And as hard as I try, I can't shut my emotions off. The physical and emotional pain work together to literally bring me to the ground the moment my feet touch the sand.

Peeta falls on top of me, followed shortly by Katniss. I moan in pain.

I failed. I was supposed to keep Mags, Peeta, and Katniss alive and I failed. I'm not worth the sand on the ocean floor.

"It's stopped," says Katniss.

It's hard, but I'm able to turn my head towards the forest. The fog is slowly rising, disappearing until there's none left at all.

_"I'm Mags," she says, holding out her hand for me. "It's my job to keep you alive."_

_I shake it. "Finnick Odair. Pleased to meet you." I drop her hand._

_"How old are you, Finnick?"_

_"Fourteen, ma'am."_

_She nods. "Are you good at fighting, Finnick?"_

_I shrug, smiling. "Well, I'm definitely not _bad_."_

_Mags throws her head back and laughs. "I believe you."_

"Mon-hees," says Peeta, shocking me out of my memory. I can't turn my head to look. I can't do anything. After a while, Peeta manages to get onto his hands and knees and starts crawling towards the water. Katniss does, too. I can't get to my knees. I have to dig my elbows into the sand and inch towards the water. I gingerly touch the surface with my finger. The pain is unbearable; I back away.

There's a long time where I shut my eyes and listen to the waves lapping on the shore. I let the pain envelop me. Maybe it'll kill me. Hmm. For the first time, the idea of dying doesn't scare me. It has to be better than this.

I groan as someone dumps a bit of water on my fist. After the initial burning, I feel a little bit better. They keep doing it. Someone else comes over to help. They cut away my jumpsuit and flip me onto my back. And the water keeps coming.

They're fixing me – or trying to, anyway. They flip me around and plunge my feet into the water. All I can do is groan. It hurts like hell, but it _is_ helping. They steadily drag more of me in until I can open my eyes. It's Katniss and Peeta. And they're looking much better than they did.

Katniss has me rest my head in her lap as I soak from the neck down. She pats my head comfortingly every now and then. And I decide that she's not so bad after all.

I'm feeling good enough to lift my arm out of the water.

"There's just your head left, Finnick," Peeta says. "That's the worst part, but you'll feel much better after, if you can bear it." They help me sit up and let me squeeze their hands as I submerge my head.

Peeta goes off to get water and I'm left alone with Katniss and my thoughts.

After soaking for a while, I feel better. I squirt water into Katniss's ear, do corkscrew dives, and do flip turns off the sand at the bottom of the water. I hold my breath for as long as I can. When I resurface, Katniss gasps.

"Don't do that," she snaps.

"What?" I ask. "Come up or stay under?"

"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave. Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."

It happened at some point while she was talking. For a split second, Katniss reminded me of Annie.

That's never happened to me before. But I guess it happened now just because of where I am and what's happening and all that. I have to push Annie from my mind as quickly as I can so I don't start thinking about her – actually _thinking_, I mean.

Katniss stops when we're about halfway to Peeta. She taps my arm and I look up. There are monkeys. Orange monkeys about three feet tall. And they don't look happy.

Katniss nocks two arrows on her bow and I very carefully adjust my trident. "Peeta," she says calmly. "I need your help with something."

"Okay, just a minute," he says. "I think I've just about got it. Yes, there. Have you got the spile?"

"I do," she replies. "But we've found something you'd better take a look at. Only move toward us quietly, so you don't startle it."

"Okay," he says. The second he looks at the monkeys, they attack.

Their claws and teeth are huge. And they're fast. Katniss doesn't need to say it. We all know what they are. "_Mutts_!" she cries as they tackle us to the ground.

I swing my trident sideways and manage to smash one's head against a tree. I manage to spear two of them mid-air and shake them off onto the ground. Katniss, Peeta, and I take up a triangular position so that none of our backs are exposed.

But they keep coming. One of them sinks its teeth into my shoulder. I cry out in pain, rip it off of me, and snap its neck. The three of us are all shouting and fighting and bleeding and I don't even have time to be afraid. They just keep coming.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts. "Your arrows!"

There's only a second. Katniss is running for Peeta. And then Reselda leaps out of nowhere, throwing herself in front of him. A monkey jumps on top of her and bites her squarely in the chest.

I start running for them, kicking a monkey's carcass off the end of my trident. Peeta starts stabbing Reselda's attacker furiously. I'm out of breath when I reach them.

"Come on, then!" Peeta screams. "Come on!"

The monkeys start retreating. They disappear into treetops and vines. And they're gone.

"Get her," Katniss says. "We'll cover you."

Peeta lifts Reselda into his arms and carries her to the beach. Katniss and I follow. They set her down on the sand and start examining her wounds. I lock eyes with her for a minute. But I don't do a thing. I know I should stay with her, but I can't.

"I'll watch the trees," I say. Then I walk away. I pull Katniss's arrows out of the monkeys' bodies and remain alert in case they come back.

_Don't think about Mags. Don't think about it. Don't think. Don't think. Don't think._

I wait until the cannon's fired to go back to the beach. I stay on the edge of the trees and watch the hovercraft scoop her up. Then I walks over to Katniss and drop the arrows beside her. "Thought you might want these."

"Thanks," she says.

Peeta and I sit in silence at the very edge of the jungle and wait for Katniss to finish watching her arrows. The vines shift slightly and I jump. Last time I was in the arena, there were vines that could wrap you up and squeeze you to death. But they don't attack us. They wrap around the monkeys' bodies and suck them into the ground.

"What the hell?" I say. "Where'd they go?"

"I don't know," Peeta says. "Probably into the catacombs."

Katniss walks up to us then. "Where did they go?" she asks.

"We don't know exactly," I say. "The vines shifted and they were gone."

We sit back down. There are itchy scabs all over me. I don't know why. I start scratching my jaw.

"Don't scratch," says Katniss. "You'll only bring infection. You think it's safe to try for water again?"

Katniss and I stand guard, but the monkeys don't make an appearance. We drink until we can't hold anymore and run some of it over our skin. Then we go back to the beach.

"Why don't you two get some rest?" Katniss says. "I'll watch for a while."

"No, Katniss, I'd rather," I say quietly.

Then she realizes. "All right, Finnick, thanks," she says. She and Peeta lie down.

I make absolutely sure that they're asleep before I start crying.


	16. Tick, Tock

**My final exams start tomorrow, so this may be the last chapter for a couple of weeks – which sucks, because I'm so close to the jabberjay chapter! And that one is so cute! Anyway, thanks for reading!**

**Tick, Tock**

"They're better fresh," I explain to Katniss, ripping a chunk off meat from the shell. Katniss reaches for one of the oysters and gasps when she sees blood under her nails. "You know, if you scratch, you'll bring infection."

"That's what I've heard," she says. She goes into the water to clean herself up. When she gets back on the beach, she turns her head to the sky. "Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use something for our skin." The parachute lands in her hand almost immediately. "About time."

This makes me wonder about Broadsea. No doubt he and Haymitch are working together.

She flops down beside me and pulls out the gift – a tube. There's thick green goo inside. It smells like a mix of death and tar. Katniss sighs happily as she starts rubbing it on her leg. She starts on her other leg and tosses the tube at me.

She looks like a dead body.

"It's like you're decomposing," I say. I grimace and start to rub it on my shoulder. I'm sure I look disgusting.

I am vain. I'm not denying it. Almost everyone I've ever met has judged me on how I look. Wouldn't you become preoccupied with your appearance, too?

"Poor Finnick," Katniss says. "Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?"

"It must be," I say. "The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?"

"Just avoid mirrors," she says. "You'll forget about it."

"Not if I keep looking at you." I say it so quietly I can barely hear it myself.

My shoulders are the worst. I cover myself where I can and Katniss helps with my back. Then I help with hers. "I'm going to wake Peeta," she says.

"No, wait," I say. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

"Peeta," Katniss says sweetly. "Peeta, wake up."

His eyes open. When he sees us, he shouts. Katniss and I break out into hysterical laughter. We start to pull ourselves together. I've been laughing so hard I'm nearly crying. That's when a silver parachute flutters down beside us.

It's a loaf of bread from back home. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands a few times. For a second, I allow myself to think that Annie sent me this. But she can't cook or bake to save her life. Then I remember what Broadsea said about the bread being a signal. One roll from home means day four at one o'clock.

"This will go well with the shellfish," I say.

After Katniss helps cover Peeta, we sit down to eat. Then someone screams. We look over to a piece of the jungle across from us. It's shaking. A giant wave comes crashing down out of nowhere. Even though we're as far from it as we can possibly get, the water flows up around us. we manage to keep the stuff that's important, but lose our jumpsuits.

"There," Katniss says when we're about to sit down again. She nods across the beach at three bright red creatures.

"Who is that? Or what?" Peeta asks. "Muttations?"

One of the three collapses on the beach. Another – the leader, I guess – stomps the ground and shoves the third to the ground.

It's got to be her.

"Johanna!" I cry. I take off in her direction.

"Finnick!" she calls back. When I reach her, I pick her up and swing her around. I set her back down and she crosses her arms. "You're green."

"And your red," I retort. "What the hell happened to you? And there are only three of you – where's Blight?"

She takes a deep breath. I prepare to try and absorb her words – which is hard, considering how quickly she can talk. "We were walking and then there we these clouds. We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field."

Katniss and Peeta arrived while Johanna was talking.

"I'm sorry, Johanna," I say.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home. And he left me alone with these two." She nudges one of her companions with her shoe. I realize for the first time that they're Beetee and Wiress. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her –"

The four of us look over at Wiress. "Tick, tock," she says. "Tick, tock."

"Yeah, we know," Johanna says. "Tick, tock, Nuts is in shock." At the sound of her nickname, Wiress runs at Johanna, who shoves her to the ground. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," spits Katniss.

"Lay off her?" Johanna repeats. She takes two steps forward and strikes Katniss across the face. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You stupid little –" I throw Johanna over my shoulder and bring her into the water. Then I dunk her a few times. "I'll kill you!" she screams between dunks.

"Uh-huh," I say. "You just keep talking."

"You miserable little parasite!" Johanna screeches. Finally, she calms down enough for me to stop submerging her. I grab a few handfuls of sand and we use them to scrub her skin clean.

When we're done, I let Johanna eat and drink her fill while I explain what's been going on. But I don't mention Mags. And she doesn't ask.

[LATER]

"The arena is a clock," Katniss says. "Wiress figured it out. That's why she's been saying 'tick, tock.'"

I yawn loudly. "You lost me."

"Every hour, there's a new attack in the corresponding piece of the jungle," she says. "Like the fog and the blood rain."

Johanna doesn't seem convinced, but we decide to move anyway. I give Wiress what's left of the bread to eat and we're about to set off when Beetee demands to have his wire. "I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something," Johanna's saying. "But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?"

"He won his Games with wire," Peeta says. "Setting up that electrical trap. It's the best weapon he could have."

Best weapon. I guess that means he can use it to get us the hell out of here.

"Seems like you'd have figured that out," Katniss says. "Since you nicknamed him Volts and all."

"Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it?" Johanna says. "I guess I must've been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were . . . what again? Getting Mags killed off?" Katniss tightens her grip on her knife. "Go ahead. Try it. I don't care if you are knocked up, I'll rip your throat out."

"Maybe we all had better be careful where we step." I give Katniss a look. I take Beetee's beloved wire and set it on his chest. "There's your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it."

Peeta picks up Beetee. "Where to?"

"I'd like to go to the Cornucopia to watch," I say. "Just to see if we're right about the clock." We head down the nearest strip towards the Cornucopia. Peeta sets Beetee down in the shade and gives Wiress the wire to clean. She starts singing a song about a clock and a mouse.

"Oh, not the song again," Johanna groans. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking."

"Two." Wiress stands up and points to the jungle.

I lose myself in thought for a while. Mags and Wiress were friends, I think. Mags was quite a bit older, but I remember that they always got along very well.

". . . Like a canary in one of your coal mines," Beetee's saying.

"What's that?" I ask Katniss.

"A bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there's bad air," she says.

"What's it do, die?" Johanna says.

"It stops singing first," Katniss explains. "That's when you know you should get out. But if the air's too bad it dies, yes. And so do you."

Johanna and I head back over to the Cornucopia. I come up with two more knives and another trident. Johanna is as happy as can be when she finds two axes. When we've found enough weapons, we rejoin the group. Peeta appears to be drawing a map of the arena.

All of a sudden, Katniss arms her bow and whips around. We follow suit. There are the Careers, releasing Wiress's body into the water. Katniss manages to shoot Gloss in the temple, and Cashmere gets an ax in the chest, courtesy of Johanna. Brutus tosses a spear at Peeta, but I manage to knock it away just in time to have Enobaria's knife plunged into my thigh.

Three cannons are fired as we start to pursue District 2. Then the ground disappears from under me and I'm thrown to the ground. The Cornucopia and its island start spinning. When it stops, I cough up my breakfast into the water.

Beetee's fallen off and I swim out to retrieve him. I pat him back as he coughs up a lung-full of water. Katniss brings Beetee his wire. It must've drifted out to the water with Wiress's body. We decide to head back to our beach.

"Twelve o'clock, right?" Peeta asks. "The tail points at twelve."

"Before they spun us," I say. "I was judging by the sun."

"The sun only tells you it's going on four, Finnick," Katniss says.

"I think Katniss's point is, knowing the time doesn't mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock," Beetee says. "You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well."

"Yes," Katniss says. "So any one of these paths could lead to twelve o'clock." We try to figure out where the lightning tree is, and in which direction Enobaria and Brutus went; we don't have any luck with either. "I should never have mentioned the clock. Now they've taken that advantage away as well."

"Only temporarily," Beetee says. "At ten, we'll see the wave again and be back on track."

"Yes, they can't redesign the whole arena," Peeta says.

"It doesn't matter," Johanna snaps. "You had to tell us or we never would've moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?"

We pick out a path at random. We look into the jungle to try and figure out what may or may not be in it.

"Well, it must be monkey hour," Peeta says. "And I don't see any of them in there. I'm going to try and tap a tree."

It's too dangerous for him to go in there. "No, it's my turn," I object.

"I'll at least watch your back," he says.

"Katniss can to that. We need you to make another map," Johanna says. "The other washed away."

Katniss follows me into the woods. I start drilling a hole as she loses herself in thought. When I've made a suitable hole, I turn to her. "Katniss, have you got that spile?"

That's when the screaming starts.


	17. The Jabberjays

**Kind of a long chapter. Sorry about that. But I think it's pretty good. ALSO – what should I do after this story, _Mockingjay_ or the 72nd Games or what?**

**The Jabberjays**

It's a terrible thing to hear. Some little girl, crying out in fear and pain. I don't recognize the voice, but Katniss must because she drops the spile and darts off in the voice's direction.

Peeta rushes toward her, only to stop short at the very edge of the jungle.

"I'll get her," I say. And I follow her. She's screaming out her sister's name loud and clear, so it's not hard to track her. After a few moments her screaming stops. Then the little girl's do, too. I crash through a thick layer of foliage into a small clearing where Katniss is wiping her arrow on some moss. "Katniss?"

"It's okay. I'm okay. I thought I heard my sister, but –"

She's cut off by the worst sound that I have ever heard. It's a whole new scream, overflowing with pain and panic.

And this time, it's Annie's voice.

It sucks me out of reality and into the past.

_This has to be her worst nightmare ever._

_She's screaming louder than I've ever heard before. My name slips in every now and then, but I don't know if she's asking for me._

_"Wake up!" I say. "It's all right, sweetie. Wake _up_!"_

_Her eyes fly open. I think she'll relax when she sees me there, but she has the opposite reaction. She screams again and shuffles back on the bed so that she's pressed against the headboard in a tight ball, gasping for breath._

_I've scared her. I stand up immediately and back away from the bed. And it fits – how she was screaming my name, I mean. Her nightmare was about me. Hurting her. "Don't be afraid," I say soothingly. "You're okay." But she's still watching me with frightened eyes. I take a step toward her and she shrinks back. "Please don't be afraid of me."_

_But instead of calming down, she cries out as if I've stabbed her._

There's an awful moment where all I can do is stand there because my limbs won't allow me to move. And then I take off in the direction of her voice. I'm moving faster than I have in my entire life, screaming her name. I've got my knife in my hand and use it to slice through everything in my way.

"ANNIE!" I call.

I want to tell her not to be afraid, that I'm coming for her, that I'm going to fix everything and she shouldn't worry. But all I can say is her name. Over and over.

Have to find her. Have to protect her. Get her away from them. They can kill me – hell, they can do anything they want to me. But I have to make sure that she's safe . . .

"ANNIE! ANNIE!" I'm screaming as loud as my voice will possibly go, so loud my throat hurts. "_ANNIE_!"

Why won't she answer me? Doesn't she recognize my voice? What the hell are they doing to her? And why is she here? Did they take her from home and just drop her here? Do the Careers have her? Are they hurting her? Is that why she's screaming? _Why won't she answer me_?

I eventually find her high up in the biggest tree I've ever seen. Well, I can't actually _see_ her, but her cries are definitely coming from up there. I cry out for her again and again and again and all I get in return are these horrifying sounds.

Then it stops. I barely have time to panic before a black bird falls dead at my feet. I pick it up. It's . . . a jabberjay. And it was screaming Annie's screams. It must've recorded her in the Capitol and been sent here to torture me.

That just makes it worse because if she's not here, I can't protect her. I can't do anything.

"It's all right," Katniss says, materializing beside me. "It's just a jabberjay. They're playing a trick on us. It's not real. It's not your . . . _Annie_." She hesitates on the name.

"No. It's not Annie," I say bitterly. "But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?"

The blood rushes from her face. "Oh, Finnick, you don't think they . . ."

"Yes, I do." I flick the jabberjay aside. "That's exactly what I think." Katniss falls to her knees seconds before a new scream – male this time – starts up. I grab her arm before she can move. "No. It's not him." I start yanking her downhill much harder than I should. "We're getting out of here!" But she keeps fighting me. "It's not him, Katniss! It's a mutt! Come on!" And I drag her until she stops fighting and starts moving on her own.

Johanna and Peeta are parked at the tree line. Why the hell didn't they come for us? Then Katniss and I smack right into the barely noticeable wall that separates us from the outside world. Blood is gushing from my nose but I don't care. All I care about is getting the hell out of here.

I throw myself at it. Pound my fists against it. Even stab at it with my knife. Nothing happens. "No, no, no, no, no." This can't be happening. This _can't be happening_!

While I kick the wall, I lock eyes with Johanna. _I'm sorry_, she mouths. Or maybe says it. It doesn't matter because I can't hear her. _I tried._

The moment the jabberjays arrive, I hunch over on the ground and clamp my hands over my ears. But it doesn't block the sound. It's physically painful to hear Annie wailing like that. She sounds so helpless. So afraid.

I can't stand this. Let me die, let me die, let me die. Because I would rather be dead than go through another second of this.

This is the first time I have wished for death. And I don't care.

I sit there in unendurable agony until the hour ends. The wall I'm leaning against ceases to exist and I end up on the sand at Johanna's feet. "Finnick!" She's saying. She tries to help me to my feet but I swat her hands away angrily and crawl to the beach myself.

Peeta has pulled Katniss onto his lap. He's trying to soothe her. I don't pay attention until he makes a good point. "What happens?" he says to Katniss. "At the final eight?"

"At the final eight?" Katniss says. "They interview your family and friends back home."

"That's right," he says. "They interview your family and friends back home. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

"No?" Katniss guesses.

"No. That's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she? First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin Gale. Madge. It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the only one that can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them."

All right, maybe calling Peeta an idiot was premature.

"You really believe that?"

"I really do."

Katniss turns to me. "Do you believe it, Finnick?"

"It could be true," I say. "I don't know. Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it . . ." I trail off.

"Oh, yes," Beetee says enthusiastically. "It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school."

I don't answer. Instead, I retreat to the water. Water is familiar. Water is safe.

A cannon fires and we regroup on the beach. A hovercraft comes to rest over the six-to-seven sector. The claw has to come down five different times to gather the body. I don't care who's dead. Honestly, I don't. I just weave a water basket and a net. Then I start fishing.

The dead are: Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Mags, Penelope from 5, Reselda, Blight, and the guy from ten who's name I can never remember.

"They're really burning through us," Johanna says.

"Who's left?" I ask. "Besides us five and District Two?"

"Chaff," Peeta says just as a parachute flutters down with a bunch of rolls. "These are from your district, right, Beetee?"

"Yes, from three," Beetee says. "How many are there?"

I count them very, very carefully. This is the message. This is how I will get out and get back to Annie. "Twenty-four," I say.

"An even two dozen, then?" Beetee asks.

"Twenty-four on the nose." I guess this means the rescue comes day three, hour twenty-four. "How should we divide them?"

"Let's each have three, and whoever is still alive in the morning can vote on the rest," suggests Johanna. Katniss laughs slightly.

After the wave has come and gone, we move camp to the ten-to-eleven section. Beetee, Johanna, and I go straight to bed.

[LATER]

_I'm in a cage. I can reach through the bars up to my shoulder, but that's it. It's dark originally, but then a door opens and light comes in. So does Annie._

_"Annie!" I call. I press myself against those bars. I expect her to run for me, but she just walks. When she's close enough, I reach my hand out to touch her face; she shrinks away from it as if I've hit her. "Whoa," I say. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."_

_She nods, and I'm able to touch her cheek. "I'm scared," she says._

_"I know," I say. "But I'm going to fix this. Okay? It's gonna be okay."_

_Annie swallows. "It hurts," she says._

_"What does?" I ask. "Annie?"_

_She falls backwards to the ground and starts screaming. She curls up in the fetal position, hands over her ears._

_"Annie!" I shout. I try to comfort her, but she's just out of my grasp. "Annie!" _

_And then there's laughter from the doorway. It's Belisarius. There's a white remote controller in one hand and a gun in the other. His thumb is pressed on the remote controller. That's what's making Annie scream._

_I lunge for him, fighting against these damn bars. "I'll rip you apart!"_

_Belisarius ignores me. He points his gun at Annie's head and squeezes the trigger. The shot makes a sound like thunder._

I wake myself up screaming. It only takes me a second to remember where I am. And where Annie is.

"I can't sleep anymore." I stand up and go over to where Katniss and Peeta are keeping guard. "One of you should rest." That's when I realize I've interrupted something. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

Peeta volunteers to stay awake with me. He walks Katniss over to the others. We sit facing away from each other. There's a very long silence before he says, "Katniss told me. About Annie."

I concentrate real hard on picking some dirt from under my nail with my knife.

"Do you love her?" He's asking that on behalf of the whole country. But it's a rhetorical question at this point. If I _wasn't_ in love with Annie, why would they have used her voice? Everyone can guess. But actually saying it might put her in danger.

So I shrug.

"Tell me about her," Peeta says. He's not prying. He's . . . being nice.

I don't want to. I want to keep her in the back of my mind, safe from Panem's prying eyes. And I'm worried that if I say anything else, they'll hurt her. But for some reason, I feel _compelled_ to tell him.

Compelled to tell him that she always smells like peaches and cream. That she's a good singer, but never sings in public. That she's patient and understanding, but not forgiving. That she loves me, even though she should consider me her worst enemy. Compelled to tell him everything.

But I don't.

"You're sort of lucky," I say to Peeta. "Katniss is here. With you."

"Really?" he says, somewhat amused. "I think _you're_ lucky that Annie _isn't_ here. All you have to do is worry about your own safety."

If only he knew how wrong he was.

I sigh. "Go to bed, Peeta. I think there's been enough personal growth for one night."


	18. The Escape

**The timeline might not be exactly right, but I find this part in the book confusing.**

**The Escape**

Another twenty-four rolls from District 3. Another signal. A confirmation. And since today is the third day, this means that the rescue happens tonight at midnight.

When we're done eating, there are eight rolls left. If and when someone else dies, this'll divide up nicely.

I start weaving myself a net while Volts fiddles with his wire. Johanna keeps a close eye on the lovebirds, who've decided to take a dip. "They'll try to break the alliance soon," she says to me.

"We just need it to last until tonight," I say. "And then it won't matter." I try to sound vague so the audience thinks we're planning something. But I know that Johanna gets what I'm trying to say.

She lies down to take a nap. After a little while, Katniss calls out to me from the water. "Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figure out how to make you pretty again!"

We're a light pink color after we abrade our bodies of the scabs. We put some more disgusting goo on ourselves; it looks a lot better without all the scabs underneath. When we're done, Beetee calls us back to the beach to explain his plan.

"I think we'll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria," he says. "I doubt they'll attack us openly again, now that they're so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it's dangerous, exhausting work."

"Do you think they've figured out about the clock?" Katniss asks.

"If they haven't, they'll figure it out soon enough," Beetee replies. "Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they're reoccurring in a circular fashion. Also –" Beetee keeps going on like that. I don't pay attention to much of it. " . . . So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap."

"Wait, let me get Johanna up," I say. "She'll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important." So I get Johanna up and quietly explain to her that Beetee has a plan, and Peeta and Katniss are staying for a little while longer.

When we return, Beetee draws the arena in the sand with a small stick. "If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?"

"Where we are now," Peeta says. "On the beach. It's the safest place."

"So why aren't they on the beach?" Beetee asks it like he's addressing a pack of hyperactive toddlers.

"Because we're here," Johanna says in her get-on-with-it voice.

"Exactly. We're here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?"

"I'd hide just at the edge of the jungle," says Katniss. "So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us."

"Also to eat," I add. "The jungle's full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I'd know the seafood's safe."

"Yes, good." Beetee smiles like we've just said our first full sentence ever. "You do see. Now here's what I propose: a twelve o'clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?"

"The lightning bolt hits the tree," Katniss says.

"Yes. So what I'm suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o'clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted."

He's done it. Beetee has come up with a plan to get me the hell out of here and back home. Well, maybe not home, since there will probably be a war going on. But still. I'll be out of here. And hopefully not dead.

"Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee?" Peeta asks after a while. "It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up."

"Oh, it will," says Beetee. "But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it."

"How do you know?" Johanna asks skeptically.

"Because I invented it," Beetee says as if it's the most obviously thing. "It's not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning nor the tree a real tree. You know more about trees than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she says reluctantly.

"Don't worry about the wire – it will do just what I say."

"And where will we be when this happens?" I ask.

"Far enough up in the jungle to be safe," says Beetee.

There's a short debate over whether or not we should go through with it. Peeta and Katniss agree, but I'm not willing to do it unless Johanna's in. Eventually, she agrees.

Beetee wants to inspect the lightning tree. Right now, it's about nine in the morning. We leave camp and head for one of the sectors that border the lighting one. Peeta and I have to take turns giving Beetee piggy-back rides in the middle of our group, with Johanna at the front, and Katniss at the back.

When we get there, we divvy up duties: I guard Beetee while he does his thing, Katniss hunts, Peeta collects nuts, and Johanna gets water.

As it turns out, Beetee's thing is quite unique. He breaks off bits of bark and chews them. Throws them against the force field. Volts really is one strange, strange man.

A clicking comes from the eleven o'clock zone.

"It's not mechanical," says Beetee. Well I guess he'd know, wouldn't he?

"I'd guess insects," says Katniss. "Maybe beetles."

"Something with pincers," I say.

At Johanna's request, we head over to the blood-rain section. She doesn't say anything, but I can tell that she's uncomfortable being in the place where Blight died. I wade into the water and gather some oysters.

"Hey, look at this!" Peeta says. He plucks a pearl from an oyster he's just cracked open. He turns to me. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns into pearls."

All right, I take it back. Peeta's an idiot. I think. He's stupid, but smart at the same time, you know?

"No, it doesn't," I say.

Katniss bursts out in laughter.

While we eat, a new delivery of bread comes floating down. I count them at once. Guess how many? "Twenty-four again."

In addition to that, a tiny pot of sauce is there. My favorite seafood sauce. Broadsea must've sent it. A see-you-soon gift, I guess.

[LATER]

When it's around nine, we go back to the lightning tree. Beetee asks me to help him. I tie the end of his wire to a tree limb, then we pass it back and forth between us, coiling it around the trunk.

After this is done, Beetee tells us what's next. He wants Johanna and Katniss to run the wire down to the water, uncoiling it as they go. Then he wants them to sink whatever's left on the spool. Naturally, Peeta objects. But Beetee convinces him.

The girls go. Beetee fiddles with his wire and Peeta and I guard. There's a very long silence before I ask, "When do you think Chaff will catch up with us?"

Peeta's obviously confused by my question. But just after it's out of my mouth, there's a rustle in the brush. Then Chaff stomps out of the foliage, spear in hand.

"Chaff!" I go over to him. He tosses something to me. It's a tiny glass cylinder with silver caps on the ends and I subtle red light in the middle. "Your tracker."

He leans his spear against a tree and produces a knife. "Your turn." I hold out my arm to him. He makes a two-inch cut, digs around with his fingers, and pulls out my tracker. "Beetee," he says. Then he does the same thing to him.

It's taking longer than I thought it would.

"What the hell are you doing?" Peeta asks. The clicking starts. "HEY! What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Stay still," I command him; I push him up against the tree and press my forearm against his throat. I yank his arm away from his body. He struggles and objects, but I'm stronger than he is. Chaff is just about to cut him when a spear flies out of nowhere and lands in Chaff's chest.

I release Peeta at once and whip around to find Brutus standing there. Enobaria is beside him, but immediately flees. Chaff's cannon goes off. "You take the bastard, I'll take the bitch!" I shout to Peeta. "Beetee, you get me the hell out of here!"

I set off after Enobaria. When I think I've got her cornered, I toss my only trident at her. But she dodges it and sets off again. There's no time to retrieve it. As I run, I scream. "Johanna! Katniss!"

Where the hell are they?

Eventually, Enobaria stumbles and I'm able to corner her in the center of a small ring of trees. She turns to face me, smiling. "Well, well, well. You've caught me Finnick. What are you going to do with me?" Her tone is strangely flirtatious.

"Where are Johanna and Katniss?" I demand.

"Dead." She's still smiling.

"I didn't hear their cannons."

She twists a lock of hair between her fingers. "That's because we're letting them bleed to death."

"Yeah?" I ask threateningly. I wrap my hand around her throat and pin her against the nearest tree. "Cause when _I_ kill someone, I like to reach into their ribcage and tear out their heart."

Enobaria shakes her head slightly and looks me up and down. "_God_, you're hot." I'm so surprised I let go of her and take a few steps back. "When did you get _so hot_?" She walks towards me until I've got my back against a tree. "You used to be this ridiculous little brat. Then all of a sudden, you become this . . ." Instead of finishing her sentence, she kicks her head back and sinks her teeth into my neck.

I tear her off of me and throw her against the tree across from me. When she regains her bearings, she touches the place where her head collided with the trunk. Her hand comes back bloody.

And then –

"KATNISS! KATNISS!" Peeta howls.

Enobaria and I take off in the direction of his voice, each hoping to get there before the other. But it's not going well. We're both bleeding – me from the neck, Enobaria from the head. And those are not good places to bleed from, especially now.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts back. "Peeta! I'm here!"

Enobaria and I make it to the lightning tree.

"We're getting out of here," I say quietly to Enobaria. "You can come with us."

Cannon.

"KATNISS!" Peeta screeches again.

"Getting out?" Enobaria demands. "Leaving the arena?" She narrows her eyes. "That's treason."

"That's self-preservation," I snap back.

That's when Katniss stands up, letting us see her for the first time. She shoots an arrow towards the force field. There's something attached to it – Beetee's wire, I think. It hits the force field just as the first bolt of lightning hits the tree.

Enobaria and I are thrown back towards the beach. I don't know where Katniss or the others go.

I try to move, but I can't.

Then all at once, the earth explodes.

I know this may be the last time I touch the ground. See the sky. Take a breath.

But all I can think of is Annie.


	19. Life and Death

_**IMPORTANT**_**: There will still be two chapters after this! There's definitely going to be one of Finnick when he gets to 13 and one from Annie's point of view when she gets kidnapped.**

**Life and Death**

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Still alive. Still in the arena. Shouldn't be here. Should be out of here by now. Should be able to move.

Find Katniss. Find Peeta. Find Johanna. Stay alive.

Try to form a coherent thought. Try and fail.

"_Are you scared?" Annie asks._

"_Scared of what?" I ask, tracing a swirling pattern on her back._

_She's lying like she always does, with her head on my chest. "Dying."_

It's getting harder to breathe. I can barely force my lungs to expand.

Two hovercrafts in the sky. One must be from the Capitol. The other has Annie – that's the one that's going to save us. But I can't tell which is which.

Inhale. Exhale.

The smaller one releases its claw close to the lighting tree and scoops something up. The big one retrieves someone closer to me – probably Enobaria. I think it's going to take me next, but it heads in a different direction. The small one picks me up.

"_Of course I'm afraid of dying," I say. "Aren't you?"_

_Annie shrugs slightly._

"_Seriously?" I ask._

"_There are worse things than death, Finnick."_

Inside the hovercraft, I'm greeted by Plutarch Heavensbee and Haymitch Abernathy. Plutarch injects something into the curve of my arm and tells me to relax.

"I screwed up, Finnick," Haymitch is saying.

Annie is supposed to be on here. But the question is _where_? Shouldn't she be here to greet me? What about Dodge? And where is Broadsea, for that matter? I'm starting to worry.

Haymitch shakes his head. "I really, really screwed up."

I lose consciousness just as Beetee is pulled in.

"_Like what?" I ask._

"_I think life is a whole lot scarier."_

"_Mmm . . ." I grunt. I'm starting to fall asleep._

"_Go to bed," she says. "I'll be right here when you wake up."_

_I smile and shut my eyes. "_I'm_ usually the one that says that."_

"_Well, _I'm_ usually the one that's tired." She strokes my forehead. "Sleep."_

[LATER]

All I've got on are a pair of airy white pajama pants. They're comfortable, I guess. Made for a hospital. From what I can tell, Beetee and Katniss – who are the only other two in this sickbay – are in similar outfits.

This is the fifth time I've woken up since I've been here. Each time, I've been able to move a bit more. Now I'm feeling good enough to walk.

Annie is somewhere on this hovercraft. I have no idea why, but I haven't seen her yet. I expected her to be there when I was first brought on and each time that I woke up. But she hasn't been there once. Neither has Dodge or Broadsea.

I follow the sound of voices through a set of double-doors and into a room. Plutarch and Haymitch are seated at a square table, snacking on some bread and soup. When they hear me, they look up.

"Where's Annie?" I ask. "Actually, where's anyone from my district? Aren't Dodge and Broadsea supposed to be here, too?"

Plutarch sighs. "Sit down, Finnick."

I don't like that he's not answering my question. "Where _is_ she?"

Haymitch studies the food laid out before him. "We don't know."

He doesn't know? How can he not know? And then I get it. Why she wasn't there when I was first brought on. When I woke up.

"You didn't get her," I whisper.

"She and Dodge are missing," explains Plutarch. "Widewater went to bring them to Sandstorm and found a Peacekeeper's dead body at your house."

"You didn't get her," I say again.

"Things were going south," Haymitch says. "We knew we weren't going to be able to get you out of the arena. Broadsea stayed behind to distract them so we could escape and rescue you lot. They won't kill him until they're sure he won't talk."

I sit down hard.

For once in his life, Broadsea did something for someone else. He _sacrificed_ himself.

Still, all I can say is, "You didn't get her."

"She's _missing_," says Haymitch. "Not taken."

"Why didn't you get her?" I ask in disbelief.

"Let me explain our situation," Plutarch says. "Most of the districts are in full revolt. Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out."

But I'm not paying attention. If Annie is missing, I have to go and find her. "Can you take me home?" I croak.

"No, I'm sorry," he says. "There's no way I can get you to Four. But I've given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick."

I rub my temples and press my eyes shut. It's getting hard to hold back tears. "I wish I could just die."

"Don't be stupid," Haymitch says. "That's the worst thing you could do. Get her killed for sure. As long as _you're_ alive, they'll keep _her_ alive for bait."

Bait. Meaning that when they get her, everything I do wrong will be taken out on her. And they _will_ get her. I know it. At some point, she'll slip up somehow and they'll take her away. And I'm never going to see her again.

Katniss interrupts my train of thought by bursting through the door with a syringe in hand. I don't even look up as Haymitch wrestles it from her hand and forces her to sit next to me.

Haymitch explains everything to the best of his abilities. I don't listen to much of it. Once he finishes, there's a moment where nothing happens. Then Katniss starts whining.

"First ones? Why?"

I don't have time for her crap. "For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to keep you alive."

She starts talking again and my mind starts wandering.

Is Annie in the woods? Is she still with Dodge? Does she know what happened to Broadsea? Does she know I'm alive? Is she all right? Please, please, _please_ let her be all right. I don't know what I'll do if she's not. Then again, I don't know what I'll do if she _is_.

It gets through to me that Johanna and Peeta are in the Capitol. Great. That's exactly what I need to hear right now.

What shocks me out of my own head is Katniss leaping across the table and dragging her claws – nails, I mean – across Haymitch's face so hard they draw blood. I wrap my arm around her waist and start pulling her away.

"I WISH THEY'D TAKEN YOU INSTEAD!" she shouts. She and Haymitch keep shouting these horrible things at each other.

Finally, we manage to bring Katniss back to her table in the sickbay. Doctors tie her down and inject her with morphling.

"Katniss," I say. "Katniss, I'm sorry. I wanted to go back for him and Johanna, but I couldn't move. It's better for him than Johanna," I assure her. "They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."

"Like bait?" she says. "Like how they'll use Annie for bait, Finnick?"

Then I change my mind again. I decide that Katniss is most _definitely_ a raging bitch.

That's the last straw. I burst out in controllable tears. "I wish she was dead. I wish they were all dead and we were, too. It would be best."

I know it doesn't sound great, but it's true. If she were dead, they wouldn't be able to hurt her. And if I die, I could be with her.

**Yeah, so, chapters get shorter from here on. Sorry about that. But they're good! I promise!**


	20. Untitled 2

_**Second-to-last chapter**_**! Basically, Finnick has a hallucination. Very sad. Rather fluffy. Also kind of short. The next chapter is from Annie's POV. My version of **_**Mockingjay/**_**Annie in the Capitol/Finnick living is next. ALSO – Dodge and Broadsea will not die/won't die yet. Read my next story and find out what happens to them!**

**Untitled #2**

Everything is . . . weird.

That's really the only word to describe it.

They say that the muscle aches, the confusion, and the over-all sick feeling are from the electric shock I got in the arena. But I hear them talking when they think I'm not listening. They think I'm making myself sick with worry because we still don't know where Annie is. And they're right.

"Finnick." A voice invades my subconscious, forcing me to open my eyes. "Finnick, Haymitch is here to see you." It's Doctor Something (I call her "Doctor Something" because no matter how many times she tells me, I can't remember her name.)

"How long have I" – I swallow – "been here?"

"Three days," says Doctor Something.

I look up at her and I can swear there's a girl standing behind her. I think I recognize her. "Annie?"

"Annie's not here, Finnick," Haymitch says. "That's what I came to talk to you about. The Capitol took her."

The Annie lookalike disappears as the words come out of Haymitch's mouth.

I strain my eyes, trying to see. The girl is gone, but I have no idea where.

"Finnick? Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," I say quietly.

I should be surprised, but I'm not. I've been telling myself that they have her since I found out she was missing.

I don't really know how to feel. Guilty? Sad? Angry? Nothing?

The facts are obvious: They're going to hurt her because of me. She hasn't done anything wrong and they're going to punish her. And for her, it'll be worse than death. That's all there is to it.

"Dodge is still missing," Haymitch continues. "But we think he's alive. Possibly with Wrather. And Belisarius delivered Annie to the Capitol himself. When he got back, Britton killed him."

Britton _killed_ someone. That's hard to wrap my head around. Neither one of the Cresta twins seems like a killer. But someone had to kill Belisarius and if it wasn't me, I'm glad it was Britton.

"I think you should leave," I say to the doctor and Haymitch. "Both of you."

"I really am sorry," says Haymitch.

"You should be," I snarl. "This is your fault. _Leave_."

They do. I watch the door shut behind them.

Haymitch has been through a lot of crap. And as a result, it's turned him into a complete asshole. I'm sorry, but it's true. He has no idea how to break bad news.

"Hi, Finnick."

I turn my head to the side and there she is. Standing by the side of my bed. Hands on her hips. Curly hair pulled into a loose bun. Eyes shining.

It's _her_.

"Annie," I say.

She smiles and sits next to me on the bed. "You're sick. Remember when _I_ was sick a few months ago?" she asks.

"H-how can you be here?" I stammer.

She ignores my question. "You took good care of me." She sighs. "I wish I could take care of you now."

I don't get it. "Why can't you?"

"You heard Haymitch. They took me to the Capitol."

"But . . . you're _here_," I insist.

Annie swallows hard. "No, I'm not. This isn't real, Finnick. You _know_ that." Tears start to spill from her eyes. "And I'm scared."

I fold her into my arms and let her cry there.

It's all like it should be. Her voice, her face, even her smell. How can she _not_ be here? This is real. This simply has to be real. Either way, I need to take advantage of this moment.

"I have so many things to apologize for," I say when she starts to pull herself together. "Starting with not telling you about the Quell."

"It's okay." She sniffs. "You were just trying to take care of me. Like you always do." She sits up and I remove my arms from around her.

"I let Mags die."

"That wasn't your fault. You couldn't do anything for her."

"I cheated on you."

"You couldn't help that, either. I know you didn't want to."

"I didn't protect you."

"You're a good man, Finnick. I'm useless. I can't do anything. And you're so nice to me. You never get angry or annoyed or upset. You look after me and do all these incredible things. You _do_ protect me. I mean, what do get in return?"

"You." I take her hands in mine. "I get _you_. And that's all I want. You're all I've ever wanted."

There are tears building in her eyes again. "I'm glad I was reaped."

I'm so surprised by that statement that I actually remove my hands from hers and stare at her in disbelief. Annie _loathes_ the Games with every last fiber of her being. Her saying something like that is completely unheard of.

"I am. Because if I hadn't, I would never have met you." She starts tearing up again. "And I would go through all of it a thousand more times just to see you _once_. It was worth it. All of it. I wouldn't do _any_ of it differently."

I put my hands on her cheeks and very gently bring her face to mine. There's so much emotion wrapped up in this kiss. Tears are pouring from Annie's eyes; I can taste them on her lips. And then I start crying, too. I've been doing that a lot lately.

There's this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the kind of feeling you get when you're falling.

When the kiss ends, Annie presses her forehead against mine. "I have to go," she whispers.

"No," I object. "Stay with me."

"I can't."

There's a moment where we're silent. I take her hand in mine.

"I love you," she says finally.

"I love you, too," I whisper.

"Don't ever forget me, okay?"

"I won't, I promise. I won't."

She musters up a false smile. "Close your eyes."

I shake my head. I know that if I close my eyes, I may never see her again.

"Close your eyes," she says again, more forcefully this time.

Slowly and reluctantly, I do.

Annie plants the lightest kiss on my lips. I hear her sniff and take a few deep breaths as her hand begins to slip from mine.

When I open my eyes again, Annie isn't there. She never was. I knew that I was hallucinating, but I played along because I'm so desperate to see her again.

I'm crying because I simply can't stop.

Doctor Something pops her head in. "Finnick? Who were you talking to?"

"No one . . ." Softly, I touch my fingers to my lips as if I can still feel Annie on them. "No one."


	21. Taken

_**LAST CHAPTER**_**. This is Annie's POV of getting arrested. It's pretty short. Thank you guys so much for everything, seriously. The next story will be Annie in the Capitol/bits of Mockingjay/Finnick living and it'll be called Resistance: Bloodstream.**

**Taken**

(ANNIE)

"They should've come by now," Dodge says to himself. "Where the hell is Broadsea? They should've _come_ by now!" He's been keeping up a monologue ever since the screen went black. And that was almost an hour ago.

I've just been sitting here, staring at the blank television screen. I can't do anything else. The last thing I saw was Johanna hitting Katniss in the head. And then the cameras just sort of stopped filming.

Where's Finnick? Is he dead? I can barely form coherent thoughts.

"Stay here," Dodge says to me. He disappears upstairs for a moment and comes back down with Finnick's shotgun in his hands.

I've only ever seen it once. Finnick showed it to me when I moved in. He said he wanted me to know where it was in case I ever had to use it.

Dodge starts loading bullets into it. But why? He's halfway through when somebody knocks on the door. "Annie." Dodge holds out his hand to me. I go over to him and take his hand. We start moving towards the back door. And the knocking continues.

We're half-outside when two Peacekeepers kick in the door. Dodge shoots twice and misses both times. "Run!" he shouts to me.

And I do, even though I have absolutely no idea what's going on.

I can taste the adrenaline in the back of my mouth.

As we reach the forest's edge, there are more shots – these ones from the Peacekeepers. One of them grazes my arm. I scream.

"You IDIOT!" one of the Peacekeepers shouts. "We need her ALIVE!" And then there's another gunshot, but it's not directed at us.

Dodge pulls me behind a tree and calmly tears off the hem of my shirt. He ties it around my arm, which is bleeding profusely. "You okay?" I nod. "Did they get you anywhere else?"

I shake my head. "You?"

"Sort of." He digs a bullet out of a dent in his false arm.

There's only one Peacekeeper now. Must've killed the other one.

Dodge and I start running again. The Peacekeeper follows us. We reach the cliff edge that leads to the river. "Jump," says Dodge. "Swim to Sandstorm. You'll be safe there. Go, I'm right behind you."

Jump. Water's cold. Don't care. Start swimming.

There's a splash as Dodge enters the water. Turn back to get him.

But it's not him. It's the Peacekeeper. I realize this too late. He grabs me by the wrists and starts pulling me toward him. I thrash and fight, but he's a lot stronger than I am.

I need to breathe soon. I need to breathe . . .

But he makes the mistake of pulling me in too close. The only thing close enough is his neck. And the only weapon I've got use of is my teeth.

Dig my teeth in as hard as I can. After a bit, I can taste blood.

The Peacekeeper releases me and I make for the riverbank.

But it's muddy and I keep slipping as I try to run. For the first time since the reaping, I speak. "DODGE!" I cry. Where is he? Why hasn't he come to help me? "DODGE!"

The Peacekeeper climbs out of the water. He grabs a fistful of my hair and uses it to pull me to my feet. He starts dragging me through the woods, cursing at me all the while.

We reach a tiny clearing. There are four horses and three Peacekeepers there, including Belisarius.

The one hold my hair releases me, tossing me onto the ground at the others' feet.

"You're bleeding," one of them says.

"Little bitch bit me," says the holder.

"Come here," Belisarius says to me.

I shriek as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to my feet. He's standing behind me.

"Shut _up_," one of the others says.

Belisarius puts a white handkerchief over my nose and mouth.

Hold my breath and start kicking and fighting and thrashing. Can't get away.

Where is Dodge? Where is Finnick? Where is _anyone_? Please, please, somebody come and help me.

"Don't fight me," Belisarius whispers in my ear. "Don't fight."

I think my lungs are going to burst. But I keep fighting.

"Breathe," he whispers. "It's not going to hurt. Just take a breath."

I swear that I can see Dodge beyond the trees. Yes, it's him – I can see the moonlight glint off his metal arm. Why is he just standing there?

_Help me,_ I think. _Please, Dodge. Please help me_.

But he starts retreating back into the woods. He's leaving me here.

Have to breathe. I take a deep breath and my head stops pounding. But now I have a whole new problem to worry about.

There's some sort of liquid on the handkerchief. It makes the air thick and my throat tight.

And just like that, everything goes dark.

**Yep, that's it. I'm not sure when Bloodstream will come out because I have to sort out how I'm going to do it and the timeline and stuff. Be assured, Finnick will NOT DIE. And I'm not rewriting any parts from the book – so I have to figure it all out.**

**Anyway, thank you SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH!**


End file.
